The tenderness of the couple at the next table is touching. It's Spring, when all of the trees around are "snowing" with little blooms, blossoms, and pollen. A little "tree fluff" lands on her eye lashes. He says, "Hold still.", reaches up and gently wipes it off. He covers her drink to protect it from the tree fluff. He reaches across the table with a bite of his food on his fork. She opens her mouth and he feeds her. Such small things, but with such great meaning.
My heart aches for that — when I let it. When I open myself and actually let myself feel. I know I'm missing out on something that can be so wonderful, fulfilling and genuine. It's all the other times I've tried that holds me back. All the times I've been disappointed, crushed, hurt. I'm too optimistic. I think, "This one is different. I've learned my lesson. I won't let this one use me like that. I'll never let myself be hurt like that again..."
But have I REALLY learned my lesson? Can I save myself from being crushed? Have I grown up enough to give of myself without giving up myself?
I guess there's only one way to find out, huh?
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