It’s funny how love is so amazing and awesome that just the thought of losing it brings about so many negative feelings. Most of all fear. And we respond to that insecurity in funny ways. Too quick to judge. Too quick to anger. Too quick to defence-mode and jumping straight into heartbreak before anybody’s even said a word wrong.
Last night I was already angry when I came over because rollerblading to Emilio’s reminded me of my first relationship – the times when I had to walk through the bush track to get to Kev’s and I was really conscious that it wasn’t a safe place to be at night. Every time I went to his house I caught a train and bus, and then walked fifteen minutes through the bush because he refused to meet me at the bus stop.
I was already resentful of Emilio as I made my way to his house because it was night-time and I wasn’t travelling safely. I suppose you could say I was travelling with that extra baggage from my past. I considered it lazy that he didn’t come to get me. I want a boyfriend who wants to pick me up, but I don’t know how to communicate that to him without being confrontational. I probably should’ve just said No, I’m not rollerblading to your place. I don’t know what I should’ve done.
I was actually relieved when I fell over because immediately I had this great excuse to call him and ask for help. Maybe I didn’t need an excuse though. Maybe I should’ve just asked him in the beginning. Maybe I need to stop trying to prove that I can do things all by myself. Maybe it’s okay to ask for help, even when I don’t absolutely need it.
What does he need from me? Does he need space? Does he need to feel more secure?