“Your heart breaks, that’s all. But you can’t judge or point fingers. You just have to be lucky enough to find someone who appreciates you.”
I wish it were as simple as that. And not me, walking around in a daze and bleeding all over the place. Because whenever my heart breaks, no one else is left to pick up the pieces but myself.
You take risks but sometimes they don’t turn out how you want them to, not even close to what you’ve imagined. But that’s why they’re called risks. Rarely am I ever a risk taker, but this one that felt like the risk of my lifetime, I went all-in and lost.
I chose my cards (and my words) carefully, and with the obssessive-compulsiveness of an inner editor. I thought I read the signs right. I thought the Universe had my back.
But maybe it isn’t me. Maybe the other half of this equation was scared shitless, so hung up on keeping up with appearances, letting peer pressure win. Maybe the other half has trust issues, doesn’t believe in the Universe, or doesn’t think I am worth the risk.
I don’t believe in the last lie.
I am worth all the damn risks in the world. And if I was brave, and yes, crazy enough to take a risk for you, then I damn well deserve someone as brave and crazy (even braver and crazier, welcome) who would take the risk as well.
I only wanted to be true to myself and I was. I have no regrets. Every risk you take is a learning experience. At least, I tried.