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So, you’ve finally found some measure of peace and quiet. Your days are a routine drudgery of your chosen profession, your nights a blend of cigarette smoke, alcohol and insomnia. You’ve learned to enjoy the occasional escapade with your so-called friends, pass time by yourself, have a hobby. Every now and then you even feign a mild interest in somebody, just enough to fool yourself into believing you’re not emotionally blank inside.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that the last time you placed your trust in someone, it resulted in a trainwreck that left you broken and bloody. You picked up your pieces, built up your resolve, learned to roll with the punches. You learned how to protect yourself from the careless, hurtful affections of those who’d end up breaking you again. You learned to rein your hopes and dreams, expect nothing from no one, and prepare for the worst in any situation.

Yes, you’re pretty safe in your armor of cynicism and solitude. And it’s not that you actually want to be alone. It’s just that among the scores of those around you, there doesn’t seem to be anyone able or willing – or more importantly, both – to cross the no-man’s-land that surrounds you like a cloak. You’re starting to believe that at some point you’ll just pick someone to warm your heart and bed based on which of those around you sickens you the least.

You’ve stopped believing in others. And you’re almost alright with that.

That’s when you meet that person.

In the beginning, she’s just another face in the crowd. Or is she? What’s that gut feeling you have about her? What is it about her that so inexplicably attracts you the way it does? Not just a cute smile, a kind word, a nice pair of breasts or buttocks. You’re pretty much immune to those by now, anyway.

Maybe it’s her eyes – did they seem, for a moment, to have the same haunted depth as yours? Did her smile betray the hint of knowing strain that comes from having loved and lost and been broken, just like your own does? And why does she seem to be unfazed by your rough exterior, why does she not stop dead in her tracks the moment she crosses the line into your no-man’s-land?

You can’t put your finger on it, not exactly, but you feel a pull to her like you’ve never felt before. It’s not a passionate, crazy thing, full of want and lust. It’s neither a crush nor a fling nor anything that would have such a trendy name. It’s always there, persistent, powerful, serene in a way. It’s her mere presence you desire. It’s her interest you want to win, not with tricks and cunning, but because you know you deserve it. For the first time in longer than you care to admit or remember, you’re genuinely interested in another human being.

For the first time after being broken, you feel alive.

And as it would, that comes at a cost.

As your up until now frozen emotions begin to thaw, so do your fears and insecurities. What if you’re wrong again? What if she’s not unlike the last one; not unlike all the rest? It took all you had to pick yourself up from that trainwreck. Are you really willing to put your faith in another person again? Wouldn’t it be wiser to play it safe and keep your distance?

And what if you do, and she actually turns out to be a decent human being worthy of you -how rare!- and you lose her because you were unwilling to give her a chance? At some point, you’re going to have to let someone in, you know that. Why not now? Why not her? How can you be sure there’s someone better further along the way?

Suddenly you remember that “being alive” is no simple business.

Kiss your peace and quiet goodbye. Like it or not, you’ll have to make a choice. And as you’ve learned the hard way, choices come hand in hand with responsibilities. Actions -even inaction- have consequences. Without even realizing it, you’ve ended up between a rock and a hard place. Risk getting hurt again, or risk missing a shot at happiness?

Welcome to the Blues. It’s nice to have you back.

Author: Chris Wilkins

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