Broken Statuette

    Jesse and I just got off the phone. We had an unpleasant conversation to be sure. No hostile words, yelling, or anything of the like. Simply put, I let my emotions get the better of me.
    If you know me at all, you'll know that I'm not an overly emotional person. Hell, I'm not even a regularly emotional person.
    If I were a product being advertised, I'd have about two or three general features that the guy trying to sell me would yell about obnoxiously from the TV. He would shout about my overall happy and willing personality. Then he would practically scream in faux excitement about my ability to become easily irritated, and my even greater ability to reign it in. Finally, as some busty blonde runs her perfectly polished fingernails across me giving her best 'buy this shit' smile to the viewers, the advertiser would seem as if he is having a small seizure while telling everyone how calm and collected I tend to stay. With that, calls from buyers start flooding in... However, I'm not so sure it's not because of the busty blonde.

    What I'm trying to tell you with my rather lengthy and ridiculous metaphor is that there is a whole spectrum of emotions I don't often feel. Or at least I didn't. Once I started dating Jesse though, that all changed. In the past five months, I've felt unutterable happiness, crushing fear, petty jealousy, harmonious contentment. I've laughed uncontrollably from happiness, but I've cried a lot too... At least for me. For a long stretch of my life and for several reasons I won't go into, I allowed myself to feel nothing but rage.
    I was a statue bleeding from the eyes, frozen in time.
    Finally, I allowed myself to move past my problems and be happy. I don't think I would have gotten through my anger how I had without my friends.
    When I began dating Jesse, I started to feel even more and it scared me... A lot.
    The night I finally told Jesse that I loved him, I cried and was barely able to talk. Laugh if you want, but it's not for the reasons you're probably thinking. I wasn't trying to make my life a movie or be melodramatic. Inside me was a struggle between equal parts elation for what I was able to feel for Jesse, and the other, debilitating fear for the very same reason.
    Huh, you ask?
    I was so afraid to trust him. I wasn't entirely sure I knew how. I had always believed that the people that you care for and love the most are also the ones that can cause you the most pain. That is a major reason I never allowed anyone to get too close to me or trust them with any information about myself that is truly important. Even today, I struggle to trust people, but I try.Trust is a house of cards that takes a reliable and steady hand to build.
    But, as you can surely guess, I succumbed and allowed that blossoming warmth of elation and love and trust to win the struggle within. I told Jesse, "I love you." Embarrassingly, I continued to cry while he held me close. Then we went back to Rosie's, where her and Chelsea accused us of being late because we were busy 'doing it', which was funny. They still have no clue.
 

    Today, while Jesse and I talked, I cried and told him how I worry about him often and how I think it is at least part of the reason I feel queasy at times. I know, it sounds crazy. Believe me I know; I hate it, but it's not something I can control. Because of my past, sometimes I think myself immensely stupid about crying and feeling worried or getting upset. I feel like Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde. Dr. J logically tells Mr. H all the reasons he's overreacting and Mr. H feels like a whiny doofus.

But, even after Jesse and I have undesirable conversations that make us both feel a lot of different things, most of the time, I feel better afterwards. I know that, despite all that was said, I was honest and was able to talk to him and vice versa.
    I know I made the right decision in trusting him.