I read this article on one of my favorite sites and it really struck a chord with me. It’s all about forgetting about how “crazy” you might look and just going after what you want. In this case, it’s going after love. He references Harvey Milk’s quote:
[quote style=”boxed”]Go after her. Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone, don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don’t let people happen to you, don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado. There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can’t just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do. Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really.[/quote]
My whole life I’ve always been “COOL, CALM AND COLLECTED” as O’Connell describes. I was afraid of expressing how I felt in fear that I may be rejected or look like a psycho to the other person — but where did that get me? Nowhere. I’m even finding it hard to share this story with my readers! All of this talk about feelings makes me nervous quite frankly.
It’s that crazy, can’t-live-without-you love so many of us crave but are too scared to go after. And the only person that ends up losing is you. Listen, I am definitely no experts on relationships — I’ve dated so many douchebags I’ve lost count. But here’s what I do know: had I been honest with my feelings instead of playing games and acting like I don’t care, I would have had better and more meaningful relationships with good guys. As I’ve gotten older and grown up, I’ve dated good guys who, like Harvey Milk says, would have gotten on a plane on four days notice just to be with me. However, because I couldn’t see a good thing when I had it, I continually fucked it up.
Here’s a little fun story about my experience:
Last year, I met a “good guy” during a very emotionally rough time in my life. I mean, he could not have come along at a worser (for lack of a better word) time; I was transitioning from college to the real world, my grandfather just died, I had a relative in bad shape from cancer, my dog was sick & so forth. I talked to him almost every day, and on paper (and in real life) he was amazing. In true Nic Mora fashion, I dropped him like a bad habit. I freaked out, couldn’t handle it and needed to get a hold of my life before I could jump into something. So I told him “the connection wasn’t right for me right now” and maybe later it would work out. After staying friends and talking for a few months, I decided I was ready and wanted to try it again. We hung out once and nothing ever came of it. In my head, I was like HUH?! I’ve never been rejected in my life and he is NOT about to be the first one! No, no, no, I refuse.
For the first time ever, I laid my heart out on the line. Literally, the telephone line. I called him and told him how I felt (cue me writing down my main points on a note card because I am a loser) — how I was still interested in getting to know him, how I fucked up and just wasn’t in a good place but didn’t want to tell him that ’cause I had just met him. He was shocked and really had nothing to say. He tried to front and act as though none of it meant anything to him and said he doesn’t want anything right now. The same shit I used to pull to every guy I ever dated to revenge whatever hurt I was feeling. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my bed, shaking like a freakin’ moron, trying to articulate my feelings. And that was that. He didn’t know what to say and I was out of points on my notecard. We hung up on a good note and that was it.
I was crushed. I literally could not (and still cannot) believe it. This had never happened to me before. I thought for so long that maybe I was the problem. It wasn’t until I went overseas a month later that I realized I wasn’t the problem. He was. Or maybe none of us were and we just weren’t meant to be. But at least I figured out that it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him and the situation. And guess what? It made me a better person. It made me stronger. It gave me a sense of clarity knowing I tried, I put myself out there, and maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. It might have felt like the end of the world for 2 weeks and my ego took quite the hit — let’s face it maybe it needed that shock — but it taught me to be more upfront with how I feel and to go after what I want. We only live once, there’s not enough time to have regrets.
I hope you can share your stories with me too, good & bad. Doesn’t need to be in a comment, feel free to private message me here.