Daring Greatly
I wasn’t un happy. I guess I’ve spent the last three years trying to decide if that was OK. Contentment. Safety. Comfort. Companionship. All the things we crave as humans. I had that. But I wasn’t thrilled about it. I never at any point felt that giddiness or spark that people feel—never had that deep connection. You know what I mean. The giddiness that eventually goes away when you find out that there’s a real human under that first impression. A real human with real struggles and flaws. And what we did have after five years was a pretty darn good understanding of each other’s struggles and flaws. And a pretty ready acceptance of those things, for the sake of having someone around to rely on and spend time with. Have I been wrong to want more? Is it too demanding of me to want somebody to look at me occasionally with eyes of admiration, love, and tenderness? Shouldn’t a woman feel lucky to have a dependable man who would do anything for her (I had that)? Shouldn’t that b...
