Every time I watch a movie about fathers, good or bad, I mist up. The really good ones even drag a stray tear out, despite how many times I swallow, or clear my throat, while adjusting in my seat and blinking really hard.
I hate the feeling of being ignored. It makes me want to punch baby goats so they can scream for me and then I'll be all like, "Oh snap, what's up, baby goat? What happened? Are you okay? Yeah? Cool. Anyway EVERYONE LOOK AT ME!"
...or something.
These are my vulnerabilities. They're real. They're mine. And I'm cool with it. If you're not... like...who gives a shit?
To bring this all back around to what my blog is normally about, which is relationships, and/or masturbation (relationships this time... sorry) when you're with someone, you have to trust them. To not betray you, sure, and we'll get to that in a later blog post, but right now I'm talking about trusting someone with your weaknesses. Your vulnerabilities. The blueprints to your Death Star with your vulnerable exhaust port highlighted in neon pink.
You have to give them the keys to the kingdom, and prepare for the worst, while hoping for the best. Without knowing what makes the other person tick on the most personal level, you're just people who know the other person exists. If you've ever looked at a couple that has been together for a long time, you'll notice something. No matter how reserved or defensive one or both of them may be, they're in sync. Acting together without words, or with just the right amount. Even if one of them fusses at the other, the argument lasts seconds, with nothing really being resolved, because there was no argument. It's what they are always doing. It's what they will always do. Because they know each other. They know their lines and limits.
Not just the part you get when you sit down with someone for the best slice of pizza in Illinois... In Chicago... In the neighborhood... On the menu. Look, I don't have any gas, or money for gas, and this is the only pizza place in walking distance. And I have a coupon. Because you said you wanted pizza.
Playing the pretend game that you have no flaws and are always a happy-go-lucky, chivalrous gentleman, who always keeps his house spotless is all fine in the beginning. On date 1 or 2. But if you know that you have an avalanche of pizza boxes, dirty clothes and crusty socks shoved into your closet, it's only a matter of time before you forget to hide the fish bowl still holding a months-dead goldfish and a... is that a Nokia flip phone?
The truth is, we all have our secrets. Of course we do. And you're right to hold out for a while from telling someone you think you might like. But eventually, you need to know when the time is right. They can't make it their home if you don't even give them the key.
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