It's happening again.
Those words fly into my brain like a rocket crashing on the moon; not gently, the way I anticipated it to, not fleetingly, like I had expected. It takes hold, deathgrip-like, plants roots. It expands. It's happening again. Like a scene from a past life in which I cannot recall the details, I know for sure it's happening again. I know this story. It's been told to me before. I heard it from somewhere.
Isolation. Something must be said about that word. Voluntary isolation. There's some sort of weird comfort in that, isn't there? The comfort and security in the knowing that whatever happens, wherever life takes you, you'll always have yourself. You alone have power over yourself. The preachers come, "no man is an island", yes, that is true, but to some extent, man is pretty self-sufficient.
So what happens when you begin to feel like your choices aren't completely your own anymore? Where do you begin to question whether it is time to move on, time to be alone? I've never been one to get into a relationship; I've always felt it hindered me from doing what I want to do with my definition of reckless abandon, with nothing to consider except for myself and how it affects me. When you get into a relationship, you consider someone else's feelings, thoughts, and all of those other superfluous emotions. Your wings get clipped, you float instead of fly.
In some strange way, I never really thought about being a commitment-phobe. It has been joked about, considered, and filed neatly under the category aptly titled "Brush it off". I've always thought once I found a good person, I'll fall prettily into a quiet life of partnership and individuality. I never thought changes to my life would have to be made, especially because my life, in no way, can be faulted. I lead a good life, a fast-paced one, for sure, but aside from my smoking, I don't have any sort of vice. I spend a lot, I read, I shop, I travel -- surely those things aren't hurting anyone. And I don't even consider my smoking a bad habit. I've let my bad habits to rest a few years ago and retired from being a young adult.
When you're younger, you always think that growing up happens slowly, a progressive creep -- but it doesn't happen that way. It happens the minute you wake up and realize that life doesn't owe you any favors. You wake up in the morning, and you sleep at night, and in between, you work like a horse. If you happen to be doing something you love, congratulations. If not, welcome to reality. Life support is a meeting for people coping with life, and they meet everyday at the bar during happy hour.
As a kid, you also never hear the doubts and fears that come when venturing into a relationship as well. And no matter how many times you're told that these things come with the territory, as absolute as the scary clown "Jack" that jumps out of the box after winding the handle, you never quite listen. Right now, I find myself unsure of my surroundings. I don't know if it's new waters, and if it is, is it good or bad? I'm being courted by my friend, and sometimes, I feel like it could be something great, and other times, I feel like cutting the lifeline. Do I just miss the things I used to do when he wasn't around? Or is there something else to these thoughts?