For a long time I thought that the real issue, the thing that was holding me back, was my fear of commitment. I'd meet someone and as soon I sensed some kind of mutual emotional agreement, I'd jump right in and shove my love in their face without actually doing anything. I hardly ever declared myself. Putting my feelings out there on the shit pile meant being vulnerable, a feeling I feared more than anything. I pretended to let people in but instead of the front room they ended up in a closet full of bottled up emotions. I craved attention, affection, regular phone calls. Needless to say that nobody ever lived up to my expectations. I didn't trust anyone. Not really. I didn't trust the peace either. After all, everything is going to hell anyway; the questions isn't 'if', the question is 'when'.

I still think that everything is going to go to hell sooner or later but at least I've lost the fatalistic streak. Lose the highs to spare yourself the lows. That's not really how it works.

I've recently come to realize that I am not afraid of commitment. I am able to commit alright. No, I'm afraid to get emotionally attached. I've been through hell and I try to avoid having to relive that experience. "I'm not afraid of commitment, I'm afraid of you." It took me a long time to understand what Hugh McLeod meant by it. I always thought he was referring to some crazy psycho bitch from the Upper Eastside. Well, maybe he was. Or maybe he was just afraid what it might do to him if he allowed himself to fall in love with said crazy psycho bitch. To fall in love is to hand someone your heart on a plate. If they drop it, that's it. A million little pieces.

It's probably still worth giving that vulnerability thing a try. Take off the armour, drop that guard and attach yourself to someone. We are all afraid of getting hurt. It levels the playing field considerably to think of it that way. And after all, there's not much to lose but a hell of a lot to gain.