Risk Beats Fear (grown up paper/rock/scissors)

“Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life.” Merle Shain

This morning I am aware of pockets of emptiness. I suppose that is better than the gaping hole, a seeming unfillable void, I've felt in the remote past. I wonder, as I type this if I'm even feeling "empty" so much as "ready". I'm thinking of the measuring cups in my cabinets. There is a feeling I get when I reach to pull one out and know that I will fill it with something - flour, or cocoa - some ingredient that will combine with the others to create a rich product after I've stirred it properly and allowed it to bake long enough. I have potential to fill these places in me, I'm not empty. Not really.

I took a risk last week and allowed myself to admit that I was attracted to someone and I went on one of those things that seemed to be a real date. You know what I'm talking about: wine, dinner, conversation over a couple of hours. A proper hug ended the evening and there was talk of seeing a movie the next week. This was no stranger. This was someone who was part of my circle of friends and we'd been slowly getting to know one another. Our other friends seemed to think we'd be right for each other and were watching from the periphery to see if any sparks would fly whenever the gang got together. I thought they did. I guess I was wrong.

Despite texts the day after the dinner, even meeting up to look at art the very next day...last night's movie didn't happen. At least it didn't happen between him and me. It happened with another friend and me. I feel bad about our other friends. I feel like they're going to feel awkward. I feel bad about my thinking there was more. I felt bad about wanting more.

But then I read the quote by Merle Shain (above). I DO want more. I can't apologize for wanting a life with someone who is a great guy. (He is, after all - a great guy.) I can't feel bad about wanting to be happy. That would really be silly in my books. The thing is, if I don't try, I'll never succeed. If I settle for less than what works for both of us, I'll end up in my remote past right here in my present. That is void and that is impossible. I move on and I live in gratitude for the friend who understands me and spent Friday evening with me. I had a wonderful time at dinner with someone who, like me, couldn't figure out why the girl who took our orders couldn't make eye contact. I was able to tell him (before the movie started) that I was disappointed, but not despondent, and that getting older and being alone is one of my biggest fears. I watched the movie with a quirky person like me, who leaned over and whispered to me at the times when the dialogue was the very funniest. I have a well of strength to draw from in my small group of friends that is deeper than I can even begin to imagine. They know that they can expect the same from me. I am fully aware that not everyone can say that. I have the ingredients for a successful and happy life all around me, in fact I am living it. I cannot dwell on those little pockets of emptiness for they are simply places of potential that lie in wait. Patience, Michelle. Patience and recognition of the grace that has already filled the void.