When you pour your heart out, your mind responds with warning lights and shrill buzzers, maybe even an inner German voice going “Achtung, Achtung.” I have exposed myself, and my mind is playing the “what if” game… I can come up with 100 vignettes where something will go amiss, like I will get an unsolicited email from someone else that will say “Sucker,” and make me feel like an idiot. Plus I am up for serious disapproval and reprimand, because even if half the world thinks what I wrote was amazing, Dan loathes 1) things in the public realm and 2) professions of love. The two combined are practically a one-way ticket to romantic Siberia…So my mind replays every thematic variations of “What if I love Dan, but he doesn’t love me…” I mean to be rejected… in full cyber-view… ugggghhhh!
And I suppose that is the grand lesson. To love even with no guarantee of ROI. And to have faith. Dan’s loving me is not the be all end all of happiness. That is dependency, and I am not dependent on him to make me whole, though its the way he teases and entertains me is so satisfying.
My captivity in Belgium illustrates the sweet simplicity of small victories like a croissant and coffee every morning or making it to the gym. Life (or my favorite academic word: the quotidien) is filled with things to be grateful for, and surprisingly few have anything to do with Dan Henderson… Of course virtually every time we see each other we amuse each other, comfort each other and more often than not, enlighten each other. There’s not many people who intuit your feelings, or know how you think, or have an encyclopedia of shared moments and memory…Those are healthy things to miss, and probably the reason it feels ill-advised to let go.
Anyway, at some point the inner panic will subside, and if he loves me, it will be wonderful, and if he doesn’t or can’t, life will still be wonderful. Either way, I am honing my talents, mastering my destiny. Either way, I am happy.
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