We live in a world where so many people can't be trusted.
Not the people we pay.
"You can call me. But it's going to cost you."
"I know it's forty grand below asking price. But it's the best offer you're going to get."
Not the people beside us:
"Watch out! That car was leaning into our lane."
"How'd they get in front of us? Weren't we in line first?"
"I overheard Cathy was getting a hysterectomy!"
"Could you file this for me? Marc said you weren't busy."
Not even our doctors.
"It's a freckle."
"It's a bug bite."
So on the chance of being screwed over, we get cold. We act hard. We try not to care too much. Which is why when we do, it's so damn significant. To get close to someone, REALLY close to them, is a gift. The problem with letting people into your heart is that you're suddenly exposed. The chance of being wounded is bigger. All your faults and insecurities are laid bare. Sometimes I forget that. Not that there are people who could hurt me, but rather that I'm someone on the "inside" too. That there are people I could hurt. You can get punch drunk on that kind of love.
"That was stupid." *Poke*
"Why do you always lose things?" *Poke*
"Grow up." *Pop*
And suddenly that little poke creates a hole. You've seen people with holes in their heart. You've probably been one. Sure, the holes scar over. But it's never the same. The skin there is a little tougher, less likely to give. I've had lots of loved ones hurt me over the years. My father was a big one. He practically used my heart as an ashtray. I survived. I believed the ordeal made it less likely that I would hurt people. Then I fell in love. Truly in love. The kind of relationship that butterflies you open so that everything inside falls out. "Oh look! There's my yellow belly. Here's my soft inside. Do you see that golden heart? Your turn."
This morning, Hoop and I got into a minor spat. I said something a little hateful and it hurt him. We're fine. It wasn't even that big of a deal. But it made me realize that I need to be more careful. I'm too close to the source. I know exactly where the buttons are without even thinking about them. My words, if said by someone else, would probably be inconsequential. Little pokes. But said by me, the person who knows every fault line and weak point, they're more like punches. It's crazy. Just when I think I have things figured out, life tosses me something else to chew on! I feel like the perpetual student, with Life as the teacher. As much as that can sting... I hope it's always like this.
Second Anual Blog Header Show Down:
Thanks to everyone who voted! The three finalists for Monday's Sudden Death Match are:
A Few Good Sporks
Poll will begin at 3pm (Eastern time) on Monday and end at exactly 3pm on Tuesday.
Have a great weekend!