top of page
  • B

cowardly love

“You are not allowed to be a coward and in love; you must choose one.” -Unknown

“All alone in the danger zone

Are you ready to take my hand?

All alone in the flame of doubt

Are we going to lose it all?” - Blanche ‘City Lights’

I thought I was brave in love, with my love. I thought I loved fiercely. I’m a loyal person that once committed likes to see something through to the fullest of my abilities. I’m an overachiever. I’m a giving person: considerate, kind but not nice. I do things to let the people in my life that I cherish, know that I cherish them. And yet, I can look back at so many critical moments and see hesitation. I take the lead in all ways in my life, except romantically. In those moments I let the other take the first jump, the first risk.

Taking risks in life is not the same as taking risks in love. In life I jump when my intuition tells me to. My gut instincts take me on wild adventures, but always with authenticity. I know without a doubt who I am and trust the timing of my life. But love? Romance? Leaning in for the first kiss, saying ‘I like you’ first… that seems exceptional.

How can I be in some ways reckless and bold and in others so timid? Honestly, it's been a long time since I genuinely liked someone. Maybe there’s no point even in this introspection. Maybe all I owe myself on this topic is to promise myself to be bolder in the future. To be the first to lean in. Or at the very least to be honest out loud about what I truly feel.

To stand in the danger zone, and choose.

Recent Posts

See All

trying hard

I’m trying hard to hold back. We both agreed that playing games was something we both didn't like. But here I am, wondering if I’ve fallen harder or faster than you? Trying to match your pace, I’m sca

Saying goodbye

Excerpt from a letter: ... Before we were a duo I was scared of being alone, and I still am. You filled my life and the emptiness is expansive. Before you I didn't know patience, or care, or sacrifice

food as a feeling

I have been shaped and formed by so many experiences there can be no other result than to be me. Life molds me again and again into myself. It kneads me like dough, turning me over between periods of


bottom of page