Iconoclastic

This word is the bane of my existence. How many times have I heard it before? How many times have I had to deal with the, "I like you, but…" or "You're so much fun, but…" or "I love spending time with you, but..." Followed by some inconsequential excuse or another, which usually goes in one ear and out the other because my mind stop listening at but.

The reason is usually valid, the rationale understandable. It is never said in spite or meant to be cruel. Nonetheless, it is a major blow to the ego, and I find myself spiraling down, sinking into the depths of insecurity and diffidence. Wondering, in all of my self-defeating splendor, when I will hear a sentence without a but. When will I be good enough? What is so wrong with me?

I know in my mind, it's not about me, it's about him. And all he's doing is being honest, explaining his feelings to me, but…

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I am stuck. Wedged in between what I want more than anything and reality. Trapped in a never ending circle of hurt and missed opportunity. Why is it that Life (insert four letter exploitive) with us? I am mystified by the apparent attempt of the powers that be to throw my existence into complete turmoil every chance it gets. Have I somehow so greatly offended the cosmos, that I am dammed to eternal strife and loneliness? And if this is the case, is there an excuse for the overtly cruel way in which this damnation is enacted upon my life?

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Do whatever you need to, to not get hurt! Are you kidding? How do you expect me to do that? No matter what I am going to get hurt. I have opened up, and allowed myself to care. There is no escaping this one without getting hurt. Can you not see that? Do I really come off as that indestructible? I know I put up a good front, as strong and durable in strife, but have I really fooled you into thinking that I don't have a heart, that I am not attached, that I don't know how to care? Is my façade so impenetrable? Or do you just not want to see?

As I see it, I have two options; neither of them offering me a solution I feel is fair or just. I can stick around and see what happens, which will inevitably leave me sitting on the roadside of relationships gone wrong, wondering yet again why it was that he wasn't ready with me, but the next relationship opportunity that happened along turned out to be "The One." Or I can walk away, and miss out on a wonderful friendship with a perfect person, and spend the next six months wondering, "What if."

Don't get hurt? Is it really that simple? I guess it is, if I had followed my instinct, my pattern of self-preserving behavior, taken advantage of the fact he was a little vulnerable, proceeded with my "we're just friends" mantra, and gotten what I wanted from the situation, while leaving myself plenty of running room, I could have gotten away without getting hurt. Why did I deviate? Why did I throw caution to the wind, and opt for the opportunity to possibly connect with another human being on an intimate level? What was it about him that made me take the chance? And why am I so reluctant to just say screw this and walk away? It has never been this hard before. Things start to get intimate, I feel like he may be starting to see through my layers, I turn and head for the hills. Why is this situation different?

In my hope of all hopes, I would want a chance with him. I think it could work. I know it would take some work, but there is an unspoken understanding between our core beings, a similar thought of existence, that makes me wonder what life would be like with him. Yet circumstance is working in opposition, and life is taking its spiteful turn, and I feel as if fate is consistently plotting against me. So I am left with making the decision, do I want to hurt a little now, or a lot later? Do I walk away, or take a humongous chance? Is a relationship with him, in whatever form it may take, worth risking my heart being broken again? And could I survive it? What is it that I want? What is it that he wants? Is the amazing reward of being in a happy relationship worth taking the chance of total devastation?

As the questions stumble forward, in an unending stream between my head and my heart, I have to stop and wonder; why is it so hard to just be happy?

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