“How did I get here?”
The thought I’ve had while sitting on this porch several times.
Like a recurring nightmare.
Why is he leaving?
Why am I not worthy of love?
And not just any love.
Why can’t I figure this whole relationship crap out?
I’ve watched someone tear out of my driveway like a getaway driver while I sat on this porch.
I’ve poured my heart out to someone and confessed that my feelings for the past three years were indeed not platonic on this porch.
I’ve shared nonjudgmental cigarettes with someone who just needed a friend to share a horrible story with on this porch.
I’ve told people I’ve loved them on this porch.
I’ve been told I’m not the one for them on this porch.
I’ve cried my eyes out on this porch.
I’ve prayed on this porch.
I’m writing this depressing blog on this porch.
The stories I’ve shared over the years have mostly been of my triumphs and turbulences with love.
Falling in and out of it.
Failing at it.
Deciding to walk away from it.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s a crutch for me.
That I’m just way too terrified of being alone.
Having nothing to come home to besides my cat and a mattress on the floor.
And I do believe that the ability to survive and even thrive without someone to fall back on is a skill we all need to nurture and develop.
But at the same time, my worst fear is walking through this life and leaving it all by myself.
I suppose that’s why I get up off the porch at some point and try again.
But trying again is really exhausting and defeating.
To think about finding another person.
Who you happen to meet somewhere in this broken world.
And you watch for red flags but ultimately abandon your instincts and fall in love anyway because it’s inevitable at some point.
But the red flags multiply throughout the days, months, years
And you turn your cheek every time.
Until they surround you.
And then that horrible thought creeps into your mind
“Maybe they’re not the one.”
And they hold you while you cry on that floor ridden mattress.
And it’s happening again.
You’ve failed again.
You’re sitting on your front porch while they pull out of your driveway and don’t look back
But at some point,
We all have to take a deep breath.
Leave the front porch.
And wait impatiently till that stroke of luck hits you.
And you’re pouring your heart out to someone else on that same front porch.
Because it only has to work once.
You won’t have to sit helplessly and watch them pull out of your driveway.
You won’t have to watch them leave.
Because that person will sit next to you through all of the other triumphs and turbulences in life.
On that very same front porch.