Prudence and Madness

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows no victory or defeat.

- Theodore Roosevelt

Sometimes I wonder how come I’ve experienced so many hurts and difficulties in life, especially in romantic relationships.  What did I do wrong to deserve the pain?  I contemplate upon my imperfections, whether my unsightly bulges or my overwhelming care led to the unfortunate series of events that plagued my adulthood eversince.  Have I become too attached or too detached?  Have I been too selfish?  Have I been too fearful or fearless?  Should I have done things differently?

At times when I’m at Starbucks coffee shop, or even at the gym lounge, I look around me and observe couples seated together in tables, some in groups, some in isolation.  And, in my eyes, they seem so all right.  Not carefree.  Just right.  As if by some skill they can walk lightly across the tightrope that is human relationships and not fall.  Why can’t I do that, too?

For some people, love isn’t so difficult.  It can be as simple as boy meets girl, boy courts girl (or girl courts boy or they court each other), boy and girl fall in love, boy and girl get married and live happily ever after (if you want to be politically correct about this, just replace the “boy” and “girl” with the sex of your choice).  There may be episodes when one gets caught with his/her pants down.  But after asking for forgiveness and it was accepted, relationships continue as if nothing happened.  And they still live happily ever after.

Most of the men I had in life had been unfaithful to our relationship.  One claimed that I’m his only woman.  True enough.  What he did not mention though was that there’s another man.  Another promised that I will be his bride and fed me dreams of us walking down the aisle, exchanging marriage vows, and starting our family in a land far, far away, in a land of flowing milk and honey.  I languished in those dreams until by accident I discovered that it wasn’t only I who languished in those dreams but also another woman whom he promised the same things.  And when the inevitable time came, he chose her over me.  Another wanted me to indulge his fantasies of virility by having sex with him and another woman at the same time.  And another guy wanted to rekindle a dying relationship and I was about to agree to this venture when I found out he had already married his girlfriend.

One would think that a person could only come across dilemmas like these once or twice in a lifetime.  I had encountered it four times, from four different men, in the span of three years, one after another.

How many more of these jerks would I be meeting still?  How much more of unfaithfulness can I handle?

These men have taken so much from me: my dream of walking down the aisle as a beautiful bride, my belief that a man can actually love just one woman, my belief in the sanctity of love between a man and a woman, and my belief in the sanctity of the words, “I love you”.

And now, there is another man threatening to make me lose my sanity, not because he mishandled my love, but because he cannot love.  He does not see love as a worthy investment.  He sees sex as an exercise, an obligation.  He believes another person cannot love him because the best of him only comes out when he is alone.

He would rather be alone than to love.

And that, perhaps broke my heart more than the other things the men in my life did to me.

These men reminded me of these lines from a Kelly Clarkson song:

Because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalk

Because of you I learned to play on the safe side so I don’t get hurt

Because of you I find it hard to trust not only me but everyone around me

Because of you, I am afraid.

One ruined relationship after another can make one so much afraid.  And in most days, my fears in life have been piling up on me, though I try to keep it away lest they overcome me and control me.  But as someone told me, we can never be truly free of fears but the more important things is that we can dare to.

To some of my friends, I always seem whole, despite those pains I had and despite the number of heartbreaks I had to endure.  They say they admire my capacity to trust and to love.  I don’t quite believe them just yet.  Maybe I’m just too gullible.  Or maybe one belief that I will still have with me is that there are people existing in this world who still believe in the real meaning of loving and trusting.  Or maybe I just seem whole because I’ve managed to pick up the pieces of me that those men were not able to take away or destroy.  But I’m not really whole.

I may not look pretty or inviting anymore, cracked in places, unpolished, old, and rusty.  Who would want someone who’s been emotionally battered over and over again?  Who would care about the efforts I exerted to remain whole despite being shattered?  Who would want someone with emotional baggages?

I would.

I would rather have a war veteran, whose strength and courage has been tested in the battle field, than a young soldier whose pristine ideals can get shattered so easily at the first incoming wave of battle.

I would rather have a loser who knows he had tried his best efforts but only did not come close enough to winning than a winner who doesn’t understand why he won or how he had come to his fate.

I would rather have a divorced husband or wife to tell me how I can strengthen my marital relations than to listen to a priest preach to me how my husband and I should just surrender everything to God to make the relationship work.

I would rather have someone with emotional baggages but learned that carrying such burden for a certain time made him a stronger person than someone who had never had or denies that he ever had emotional baggages because a person who denies he has fears will never overcome them.

I believe that the past few relationships had taught me well and I’m thankful I came out scarred but stronger.  All I have to do to trust and to love again is to face my fears and dare to be fearless.  I am ready to step away from the safety of the sidewalk and onto the street, colliding with my fears head-on, if needed be.  I may lose myself in the process but I’ll be proud that I have done it, victorious or not.

In daring to be free from the hold of fear, I am proud of my battle scars.

Filed under: Lifelogs by Prudence