Intimacy

Intimacy. It's a scary thing. You stand there one day looking at it face to face and realize that you might not be ready for all that you had hoped you would gain from it. You crave it. Fight with loved ones over why they aren't giving you enough of it; but the truth about intimacy -- is that it's never really about what others can give you. It's about what others propel you to give of yourself.

That's a little too Meredith Grey for 9am in the morning. I'll try another well-known voice we all know and love:

So as I sat there -- sitting across from him; wondering why were were two strangers silently biding each other's time -- each unable to give the other what we so desperately wanted...what we so desperately needed. I couldn't help but wonder...does every relationship go through this? Or could this possibly be a tell-tale die hard signal that this relationship was about to take a turn for the worst?

Oh Carrie Bradshaw. May you and your uncertainties RIP.

Intimacy is tough. It's played out by some of our most beloved contemporary, convoluted heroines of the last decade. The answers aren't simple -- because to know yourself; means to be conscientiously cognisant of all your behaviours amidst the subconscious streams of love and desire.

We are programmed to make mistakes. You. Him. It's inevitable. And that...is why love is so painful sometimes. It causes us to reach out and give more than we are prepared to, in the hopes that someone will catch us -- and more often than not; they don't. But not because they didn't want to. Because they were blindsided by how overwhelmed we both were by our own discomfort with intimacy.

So overwhelmed that for some of us -- we write. Others cheat. Others live in a state of limbo. To break the spirit and face your fears is a scary thing. I can't explain it in practical every day terms. But, I can use emotive narrative to tell you how it feels when I go to the next level of intimacy with someone.

Don't you just love writers?

Emotive Narrative Begins:

I'm standing on the deck of the diving boat. The sky is overcast, and the waters look darker and rougher than when we were at shore. He laughs. This is not his first time diving -- but it is mine. And I'm scared. Really scared. There's sharks in the water. And it's dark -- because the sky is overcast.

I look at him; and know that we've both been certified. In my head I know that I know what I'm doing. But my emotions are taking over. Fear is rising. Even though a million and one things can go wrong on this dive -- it's important to him that I do it. He wants to enjoy the sea with me. And I want to too. Especially with him. It's not him that I'm scared of. It's everything that could possibly go wrong on this dive.

So we dive. I take the leap of faith. I may never be ready for a deep sea open water dive; but he is. And I trust him. Well, I want to trust him. I really hope that this dive proves to me that I can trust him.

We start to descend. My ears are hurting. I'm not really enjoying this. But I know that if I want us to work I'm going to have to get really good at open water dives. We go deeper. 10 feet. 20 feet. 30 feet. I'm doing ok. Not great -- but better than I thought. But, I'm scared. I need him to hold my hands and remind me that everything is going to be ok. After all, this is my first dive. And I need to be able to be honest with him, right?

But, something shifts as we go deeper. My grasp gets tighter. My smile turns into a wince. He's starting to not enjoy the dive because he is misinterpreting my angst. He thinks he is the one that is making me wince -- when it's actually the swarm of sharks swimming around us; and the fact that the water is so very dark and cold.

Barracudas shuffle the sandy bottom and a cloud forms around us. I can't see him -- so I grab his hands a little tighter. But he flinches. I've hurt him with my grasp -- and so; he takes a break from me and leaves the cloudy dark waters. He finds more seasoned divers to enjoy the afternoon with.

And I'm left there: alone, in a cloud, deep deep under water; and by myself. I'm surrounded by sharks and barracudas and have every logical reason in the world to be afraid. But somehow, my fear has caused him to flee -- at least for the moment. And, betraying me when I felt so vulnerable, has more or less sealed our fate. If I'm ever able to find my way back to the surface; the boat; and then the shore -- I'm pretty certain that I will never go diving again. At least, not this deep; and not for a very very very long time.