In what is usually not a great look for me, I decided to wear my heart on my sleeve and put myself out there yesterday. The success rate for such things for me is 50% but that statistic isn’t saying much since I’ve only done it twice before with contrasting results. However, It feels slightly difference this time... while the previous two efforts (and I mean that word literally) were a result of the follows: quite a lot of calculated deliberation, exasperation, then tepid confidence, and finally what felt like a short but botched up actual response. Bleh. This time it was impulsive. Early. And I don’t feel stupid for feeling so vulnerable afterward. It may just be age (and the cynicism that comes with it) that’s not playing havoc with my sense of self and in reality making me feel far less embarrassed than I should. But here I am finding myself baring a part of my soul for someone to see, seemingly knowing what they would feel, yet deep down also knowing that maybe I don’t quite know what they feel? Am I tossing and turning in bed, waiting for a response? No. And am I skeptical? Yes. Am I ready for disappointment? Oh... much more than I used to be used to. Now If that ain’t growth, I don’t know what is.
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