And God knows I think too much. I think about every minor detail of my life. I think about my family every day. I think about work more than a man should. I think about my friends, and how they've shaped my life. I think about love, and how I desire it. Grown men are supposed to be carnivores. We are supposed to find women, take them, use them, laugh about it, be done with them and move on to the next until we get bored. I like to think my parents taught me differently. I like to think the experiences I've had in life and love have granted me a greater appreciation for what is out there.
So in the muddle that is my heart and mind, I've found clarity. Since 2001, the display on my cell phone has read "Selfish." I had my heart broken that year, and I decided it was best to go the route of the bachelor. Hook-up, date a little, but never really commit to anything. Over that time, I'm sure I passed up on some wonderful women. Better for them, better for me. I needed the time to grow and learn. I needed the time to spend on me, my family and my friends. I grew, and I learned.
My clarity has come over the last few months, and I can assure you it has been frightening. I think I've know love two times before. Meghan and Kim. Good, good women. Women who passed through my life and left a lasting impression. I appreciate the impact they've had. And then there is the Kristie incident. Pure foolishness on my part. I should've listened to Flippen from the start.
So with all of it past, she has returned South. She has come from out West, where she too needed time to find herself. We shared some fun months together last year, but I got scared. I cared about someone and wasn't sure how to deal with it. I also wasn't sure how to let go of something totally unhealthy. And then she lands back in the South, and we've see each other three of the last six weekends. And it has been great. I've realized every single reason I adored her at first is still there ... but it is even better. I find myself choked up ... I find myself wanting to tell her my thoughts every chance I get.
So I've thrown myself out there. She knows. I mean shit, when it brings you to tears to say something, you know it is right. Fear has taken over my life too many times. Now is the moment for me to become a man.
My phone no longer reads "Selfish." I no longer am fearful of my heart and what it tells me. I no longer listen to reason (although, some may argue that was never the case) and I listen to what I feel.
And here I am, a man so proud of myself ... yes, even in this moment of self-revelation, I find the time to pat myself on the back. Fuck therapy. I have this. I have opened my true heart, with the uncertainty of what is to come. And so that is who I am. That is me. And it feels fucking good.