The only fear

Until today I thought that my life's only fear was to end up with the wrong person. But there's another side to it: to never find the right one. The one who offers to hold my hand. There's a strange knot in my throat to think that I'll never have someone look at me the way Gilbert Blythe looks at Anne.

I've been giving away pieces of myself hoping to numb this fear. That there's nothing right and everything's wrong so it doesn't really matter what I end up with or not. Or have I been so busy mourning the loss of one, erecting all sorts of barriers around me, that's actually doing the opposite? Keeping the right out and letting the wrong in. Or is it just me attracting all the ugly in the world?

I've mastered the art of pushing people away. Especially the nice ones. I sense the kind of person they are, instantly figure out their off points and then serve it on a platter. I've become an automatic repulsion machine. I don't even realise that I'm doing it.

There was a time when I wanted to get married. Maybe I still do but the idea of an unhappy relationship haunts me. Nothing can assure that the nice guy today will not turn horrendous tomorrow. So why not stay safe and get rid of them before they have the opportunity to hurt you. At other times when I meet a real nice person, the realisation hits that maybe I'm undeserving of it and I can't put everything nice to test.

Yes, it hurts when I watch or read love stories and the fact that I may never have one of my own. I may never find my true love. Maybe not everyone finds their soulmate.