By Hairy Bradshaw

Dear readers,

As the nights get colder and longer, and your sheets feel crisper, I hope you’ve learned to love what’s within them. Maybe, it’s yourself, or your favorite fictional character, or your best friend who missed you over break, or your childhood dog when you went home, or your lover. Maybe you’re snuggling up with a copy of The Outback this very moment!

I returned from therapy this afternoon with a sensation I had not felt for a long, long time my lovely readers: the desire to settle. Not settle for less, not settle down, but the yearning of a slow, long indulgence not in relationships or opportunities but quiet moments. 

I had a conversation with someone last night who told me their similar experience, but with a different outcome. They could foresee themselves dating someone soon, and they had such a calculated approach to it. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a belief in love, it is instead that they believed commitment to another is a responsibility, and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. “Why would I not want to be or present close to the best version of myself I can?” they asked me.

I told them, I could never be with someone so calculated because I would doubt the sincerity of their emotions. They admitted they thought finding the one was more about timing than anything else — when they were ready, they would be committed to a relationship. They had never felt the feeling after just one date that they could really be with someone, and thought love was something you had to build.

As I’m sure you can tell, readers, I am a far more feelings-based human. I am indulgent, and I have most definitely been on one date and thought I’d found the one. In my eyes, there is rarely any logic to love. You see — I think love is something you find, and relationships are what you build. One has to be the foundation of the other. The love will likely persist, but the relationship requires constant maintenance. And without the relationship, over time, the love may suffer. At every bump in a relationship’s road, the people who want to keep driving will find their way over it, and enjoy the love on the other side. The road may be filled with potholes sometimes, it may turn to dirt and veer off in an unplanned direction, but if you commit to seeing past it, the love and relationship prevail. It was only when I grew tired of building bridges over sunken bricks that my previous relationship started to suffer. My commitment faltered, though the love remained strong, but eventually that too could not survive. Love should be easy, even when relationships are not.

But perhaps I am naive, and risking the wellbeing of myself and others due to an addictive indulgence can have severe consequences. If we’re being realistic about the severity of the responsibility of holding someone else’s heart in the palms of our hand and being trusted not to crush it, can we really fall for love? Can it ever be as simple as allowing our emotions to control us without thinking about all of the potential consequences? How much of love is about timing? I’m not sure we’ll ever know the answers, but I battle with this responsibility and its opposite, desire. Is it fair to others to take on their hearts if we cannot promise that we will keep them safe? Can we ever make that promise?

I sit now and hear of a friend’s beautiful relationship. Her love has grown immensely, yet that tingling feeling within her began long before the relationship did. That need to be as close to somebody that you wish you could be inside their skin, to feel the world through their hands, to listen to their thoughts and enjoy each and every one. I believe that we do not choose love, we fall for it. While relationships are about compromise, and require you to assess your own abilities for the sake of the person you love, that love itself is something that we can never predict, and are lucky to find. While some treat finding it like looking under each and every rock, going on every date, others accidentally trip over the stone in their path. Love should never feel like a responsibility, but another person’s heart should be. And that is the decision you must make when you meet the person, seeing how much growth and compromise you would need to have for them, and if you are ready for that. 

I feel guilt for the hearts I’ve grabbed when unable to offer them the support and care they deserved. I have hurt people in my floods of desire, and though I believe in enjoying each and every love you can find, it is an obligation to those you like, and maybe even love, to offer them the honesty we all deserve. However, don’t forget how lucky it is to find such a magical sensation, and know that many people might be willing to work with your faults in order to build something beautiful — such as a relationship. Just don’t expect them to. 

Much love,

Hairy Bradshaw