20 seconds.

So, I've had a lot of different things on my mind the last couple of days. I'm a little less mopey about it all, so I'm ready to put it into perspective.
I've been thinking a lot about relationships (of all kinds), people in your life, you know. Trying to wrap my head around how people can be so close and so involved and then not at all anymore.
How they impact you, good or bad, and prepare you for the next.
Sometimes, you meet them again on the long road to the middle. It can be like meeting for the first time, if enough change has occurred. Sometimes its a comfort like no other when you pick back up effortlessly where you left off. Others its a reminder of what you don't want out of your life anymore, which can be sad, but also freeing if you allow it to be.
I find myself over correcting when it comes to new opportunities and second chances. Going out of my way to fix where I messed up in the past, even if there is a clean slate.
I often wonder if I'll ever be as open with someone new as I have been with the first people I opened myself up to. Also, if you can ever love as freely as you do the first time you let someone take residency of your entire heart.
Those are the thoughts that scare me.
What will the next person have to prove? What obstacles will I set up for them in order to know they're worthy of me handing over the keys? What will I have to let go of?
And, that's the key. (no pun intended.) I see red flags raise when I'm in familiar territory and go into full alert. "You can't let this go down like that again," I say to myself. It's survival mode. It comes out of beating yourself up so much for not seeing the signs the first go around and putting yourself in a vulnerable position you never should've been in in the first place.
But, it happened for a reason. My fear, however, comes out of the fact that I take the wrong meaning to the reasons. I don't allow experience to always teach me a better approach, I just allow it to scar over and reopen old wounds. Instead of applying the lessons and moving forward and being able to say, "I didn't let you beat me this time!"
I fear vulnerability. Clearly. I mean, who doesn't? But, instead of being able to prove lessons were learned the next time I step up, I just back away entirely because I don't want to be put in the position and feel that pit in my stomach ever again.
About a month ago, I went to see "We Bought a Zoo" with my mom. My first shared Cameron Crowe experience with my mother. I know, I know, Matt Damon. But, y'all, it's Cam, trust. (Also, it has one of the most powerful Cameron Crowe scenes of all time that I've been scouring the Internet for. SOBS, y'all.) The point is, the pivotal scene and Crowe quote, Benjamin tells his son "You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it." The film is all about moving on with your life after hitting the lowest depths you can experience. And it all comes down to being courageous. A lesson I thought I had already learned many times over.
One of the things that stood out to me about that Cameron Crowe experience, is that even though you are moving on with your life, it's OK to continue to honor your past. Your past will always haunt you, its a part of you now, but instead of running away from it, allowing it to live in a really special place and acknowledging that it is a part of what brought you to where you are today. As much as the past could have been devastating, it was also an experience you wouldn't give back no matter how tragically it ended, or the fact that it ended at all.
So, it's all a part of me now. Just as much as I'm a part of someone's past, too. And, as much as it hurts to believe that sometimes, it's a painful past, I need to relish in the fact that it's helped bring them to a brighter future. Mistakes made, lessons learned and all.
Twenty seconds, though? I think I can handle that.
Right?