Reliability provides a measure of how often a system fails.
Resilience provides a measure of how long failures will last,
and vulnerability provides a measure of how severe failures
may become. -Storage Reservoir Behavior in the U.S., Vogel et al.
I would estimate it around ten. Ten real dates in 2 months. Ten ups and then downs. I’m exhausted. I’d like to crawl under a cardboard box and not talk to anyone anymore. I’d like to sail into the middle of the Pacific.
Two months ago I thought I was setting out on a mission that I understood. But today, I’m little more than confused with a lot of suitors. Sure, I met my goal of getting out there, but the disappointment that none of them could see the depths of me like Mr. Faraway was and is able to, is terrible.
I have been downright afraid for the last week, and really unable to express my fear to anyone. It is the fear of the possible – I can actually choose to make it all happen in this instance. The partner, the kid. The universe is saying “here! this is what you asked for!”, and I am ashamed that I have so much fear of letting go, and getting hurt, and it not being right, and me not being right.
The thing about the above quote is that I firmly understand how to do this life bit on my own – how to trust myself, and pick myself up, and how to be strong, and how to weather the changes, how to swim blindly into a cave with the hope of something on the other side (see this week’s Bachelor). But I have no idea how to let myself morph into some sort of unit – whether it be with a man or child – that does that together. I knew for a bit – with Mr. Faraway – but that crashed, hard. I have no idea how to let go of the identity of Ms. I-Can-Do-Anything-On-My-Own. It has been my life raft for a decade (or since I was maybe 11?). The thought is utterly terrifying.
Thankfully, I have proven that I am reliable, resilient and not at all vulnerable to calamity, so hopefully this too shall pass, in peace.