Over the last few months, I’ve been forced to dig deep into my emotional stores for all that stuff I’d packed away in those boxes labelled “Danger! Never to be opened”. I’ve had some of my most difficult conversations this year and I think I just might be a better person for it.
Earlier this evening, I unpacked the contents of a particular box whose exact location I thought I’d forgotten. It started with a casual stroll down memory lane, one I didn’t even prompt. Yet before I knew it, we were jogging and then running all the way down the lane. The words were out before I could stop them. And just like that, there my truth was in its full glory! For a minute there, I wanted to take it all back. I thought of every possible way I could take back everything I’d just said. I felt almost naked and exposed. Almost, because there’s one little thing I left out. Perhaps another time, if it ever comes.
Anyway, as I sat there thinking about what I could possibly say to lighten the mood a little bit, my date said something that left me completely dumbfounded. In that moment, it occurred to me that the person I was talking to had no idea what had just happened. I could have said “look, that cow has two heads” and they still wouldn’t have told the difference. A wave of relief washed over me for a moment. But it passed just as quickly when I realised there was something horribly, terribly wrong with that picture.
I vaguely remember uttering a few unintelligible statements about how much I’d give to get rid of my emotions. But I was lying. My momentary lack of emotions is exactly why I was sorting through fossils in the first place. Who am I without my emotions? Nothing. No one. That’s who. It’s true that I’m intense. I love and hate so fiercely that even I sometimes worry for the people on the receiving end. “Somehow” has never quite been my style. Not for lack of trying, though. I just always land on the extreme end of the scale. Always.
Anyway, at the end of it all, I packed up my little box and put it on the shelf because now that the cat was out of the bag, there was no need to bury it out in the field anymore. Who knows, maybe one day it will all make sense…