Embracing the Messy and the Chaos

Most people think I’m a risk-taker and while, yes, I do agree, it wasn’t until I came to Europe that I realized how much I enjoy the thrill of uncertainty. And by enjoy, I mean, I make myself love it even though deep down I want to kick uncertainty straight in the crotch. AND NOT APOLOGIZE FOR IT.

By default, I over-analyze, I don’t even know what the flow is, nevermind actually going with it, and I’m impossibly stubborn about most things. I don’t like when people know that I like them. I want the control. The ball needs to be in my court, at all times. I analyze to understand, to keep some semblance of control over an uncontrollable world. And, when I came to Italy, this façade, this game, had to come tumbling down, otherwise I’d have been getting on a plane about a week into coming here.

Because, life has this funny way of being extremely messy and chaotic when you’re actually living it. When you’re out there, meeting people, collecting experiences, living out loud, you become tangled in the webs of other people’s lives and you never get out unscathed.

Yet, I have spent a lot of time not living out of fear of being hurt or rejected or rocked to my core. And, I have realized that I’d rather embrace the chaos, the uncertainty, the overwhelming messy, instead of pretending I’m satisfied with a whole heart that’s never been chipped at or broken. Or a body that isn’t bruised and scabbed and worn right down to the bone by the time I get myself into that coffin. I’m not getting out of this life thing alive, so I might as well live it like it counts.

So, when an aspiring Italian doctor doesn’t call me the next day and I see him out at the pub we met at, I’m going to tell him, straight to his face, that I wanted to see him again. Because, I did and because his kisses sent lightning through me. I’m going to be vulnerable and truthful and live like I have everything to lose. And, when he tells me that he met an Italian woman he’d like to pursue further, I’m going to touch his shoulder, tell him I understand, and I’m going to grab my friend and with the utmost urgency, say, “We need to leave. Right now.”

And, I’ll swagger outside the bar, hold back tears, deny a couple boys with stars in their eyes over me, and I’ll get myself back to my apartment in one piece. When there, I’ll cry a combination of disappointment and happiness tears, because I’m out there, I’m getting my hands dirty, and the fear of not loving is overriding the fear of getting hurt. Finally.

For the first time ever in my life, I’m embracing the messy and the chaos. I’m letting myself open up and am accepting that I may find passionate love unexpectedly or I may find myself home, alone, crying into my hands. Either way, this is life. This is what it’s about. And, every tear is a battle scar. Every disappointment is a lesson learned. Every rejection is strength earned. And, every day I become a little less closed off, a little less afraid, and a whole hell of a lot closer to living life in the frightening chaos that it’s meant to be lived in.