Write, delete, repeat. It’s a process I’ve been doing for the last two and a half hours. Churning out blog posts is my new favourite lazy Saturday afternoon activity, but I don’t know why I’m finding it so difficult to write this one. But I do know I need a place to untangle all my incoherent thoughts. Writing has always been that place for me.
I’m not admitting anything new when I say I don’t like to openly share the good things going on in my life. There’s something about keeping those precious moments close to the heart. In their purest form, untainted, and away from the judgement of others and mess of everything else.
The phone calls, the texts, and the everything in between. I want to talk about them, there’s a part of me screaming out to the idea of it. “It won’t change anything if you tell someone how happy you are”, and I want to test that theory. To see if the precious moments can survive their exposure. It’s a bit like seeing what happens when an element or metal is exposed to oxygen. Will it be tainted, and doomed forever?
I know I sound ridiculous, all of this is completely ridiculous, and I suppose I might be a bit superstitious. But I’m scared that it’ll all disappear from my fingertips without any warning. That overnight the good will turn into something bad, and that things will come to a grinding halt.
The thing is, I don’t want to feel or live this way any more. I’m not enjoying each moment as much as I should be. And whilst I don’t think I need to shout about them from the rooftops to enjoy them, I’m getting paranoid that things will suddenly collapse beneath my feet. Things are going well, so something not-so-great is bound to happen soon, even if by law of averages. Maybe it’s a defence mechanism, past experience, or because I really care about this working. Maybe it’s a combination of all of these things. I want to absorb, live and breathe every single second of this moment without thinking about the what ifs, and the whens. Isn’t that what life is really about?
There’s posts sitting unpublished in my drafts – one is about a date that happened over a month ago, and the other is about the man in question. But I’m scared that as soon as I hit the publish button, things will all come tumbling down. I mean, does anyone else follow this school of thought too? That we jinx something if we talk about it?
I know what the logical, rational side of my brain is telling me. Screaming at me in fact. Maybe the problem in all of this is that I really, really like him and I don’t want to ruin it.