Risk.

The other day I talked about all the broken men I collect.

I’ve come to realize I know exactly why I do it.

Fear.

I collect broken men because I believe I’m only worthy of broken things. I think I don’t actually believe the man I want will ever want me back. I’m a consolation prize, remember?   So my thing is either to go for the one who won’t ever want me back, or go for the one who isn’t really a risk.

I’m so quick to challenge others to risk it all for the great loves, yet I don’t do it myself. I take a risk on mediocre love because let’s be honest, the majority of love is risky regardless of if it’s forever love.

I’m a champ at risking it for mediocre love. Because I know the pain won’t be too great if it all falls apart. I know how to handle the pain of mediocre love. But the pain of great love? That might be the end of me.

Here’s the thing, though, I don’t want to be a fixer. I want to be an inspirer. I want someone to be so inspired by the way I love them, that they want to be the best of who they can be. And I don’t just want this in romantic relationships. I want the way I love others to call up greatness inside of them.

So maybe that’s why I pick broken men. Because I’m not afraid to love deeply, but I’m afraid to be loved deeply in return.

 

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