on the risk of love

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. – Anais Nin

We met in the coffee shop, ate some fresh deli sandwiches, and talked about all sorts of things. The conversation turned to last night, at Rebecca’s initiative, and she said, “I’ve been thinking, and I do like you, but I’m afraid of losing the friendship we do have. I don’t want to risk such a great friendship. You’re one of the only friends I have on this campus, except for Emily and Kyle, and I don’t want to lose that.” I had no question in my mind that she was being honest with me. “I understand,” I told her, “but I don’t think we can let risks decide how we live our lives. If we let risk reign over our actions and decisions, we’ll never taste the victories in the opportunities that present themselves. We’ll be the quiet and timid souls who never know victory nor defeat…”

Love is a risk. The above conversation is taken straight out of a book I wrote in 2007—“losing touching searching”—that detailed my romance with a certain girl my sophomore year of college, the impending breakup, and the emotional trauma that came swift on its heels. She and I became great friends, and I pondered whether or not to tell her that I liked her. Eventually I came to the conclusion of Anais Nin: “There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” I knew that if I did not tell her I liked her, it would burn within me like a hot poker. So I told her I liked her one night as we sat on the campus hill overlooking the Cincinnati skyline. I was willing the risk to let it blossom, and she struggled with this. It is an understandable struggle: she was right, our friendship did break apart, we don’t talk anymore, but at least we’re both doing good.

Love is a risk. It is love that risks everything. It is love that risks the deepest parts of who we are. Love is vulnerable, opening up and exposing the darkest secrets. Love risks being mocked, rejected, abandoned, judged and condemned. Love is selfless, and thus it risks being used and taken advantage-of. Love is committed, and thus it risks being cheated-on, back-stabbed, and stomped into the dirt. But when love is met with love, when vulnerability is met with vulnerability, when selflessness is met with selflessness, when commitment is met with commitment, something beautiful can blossom. It is my hope that in time I shall experience this love, a love of vulnerability and selflessness and commitment. A love that is genuine, a love that is real, a love that is not a hoax. It is such a great risk, but I would rather risk everything for the chance—even the smallest chance—that a beautiful and magnificent love can blossom.