The Kettle Makes A Wager

It's said that a kettle that's quick to heat up is also quick to cool down.  I don't know if there's any literal truth to this saying, but I do know that the tale of the quick-heating kettle describes a bad habit of mine.  I can be scattered at times and tend to move from one thing to the next pretty quickly.  I will focus all of my attention on something with laser-like intensity only to lose interest a short while later (it's a miracle this blog has lasted as long as it has).  This tendency is most pervasive when it comes to hobbies, but unfortunately it's crept into my romantic life as well.

There have been several girls who I was absolutely positively 100% sure was the girl with whom I'd spend the rest of my life.  I felt it with the burning certainty of Truth pretty soon into the relationship and would express this to the girl shortly thereafter.  I'd bare my soul to her and sell our relationship as a mighty redwood, destined for eternity.  The sale would work, and things would progress smoothly for a while.  Until that inevitable moment when the internal switch would turn to "off," and the passion would evaporate very, very quickly from the relationship.  And at that moment it became clear to both of us that I was no better than a used car salesman, the mighty redwood turning out to be nothing more than a feeble sapling.  A dud.  A lemon.  Of course, this was not my intention, but intentions are hardly relevant at that point.  

I've been thinking a lot recently about the quick-heating kettle.  As you know, I've met a wonderful girl with who I absolutely enjoy spending time.  It's only been several weeks, but it feels like we've known each other much longer than that.  There's a "click" between she and I, like two interlocking Lego pieces.  In the past, this is exactly the point where I would start "The Big Sale" to convince this girl that there exists something that doesn't (at least not yet).  I'm mature/smart enough now to refrain from that and have actually been trying to take the opposite tack here, focusing on just letting things develop organically without any unnatural interference from me.  And yet, organic has still resulted in a rather accelerated pace.  

Accelerated is not bad per se, but with my history, I worry.  Statistics and probability tell me that in all likelihood this relationship will end in failure.  History tells me that this relationship, organic or otherwise, is moving down the same ol' path of "hot-->cold-->fail-->solitude."  It's only a matter of time until I lose interest.  Again.  Tick-tock.  Tick-tock.  Tick-tock.  I'm just waiting for the clock to strike midnight and the bells to toll--FAIL!  FAIL!  FAIL!  

These are the thoughts that drifted through my mind while with The Girl yesterday evening, forming a dark cloud over our heads.  As the evening progressed, the cloud seemed to grow bigger and bigger, fueled by my negativity and doubt, threatening to unleash its chaos down upon us.  But while I was busy concerning myself with the cloud, The Girl had brought us to a bowling alley arcade for a nightcap of Street Fighter II.  As the quarters were deposited and the machine pleasantly "blip-blip'd" to acknowledged being fed, the cloud seemed to recoil and shrink a bit.  She selected Chun-Li and I Ryu.  The cloud recoiled and shrank again.  As the rounds progressed, as the two of us mashed on buttons and directed our avatars in spirited combat, the cloud kept shrinking and shrinking until it dissipated itself right back to where it belonged.  To nothing.

In our final match, as Ryu is getting his ass handed to him via helicopter kick, I look over to see The Girl's victorious expression matching that of her avatar on screen.  And at that moment another saying popped into my head:  

"Gamble everything for love, if you are a true human being.  If not, leave this gathering.  Halfheartedness does not reach into majesty." --Rumi

That's not to say I'm about to revert to my old ways and declare, "THIS IS IT!"  No, nothing like that.  It's just . . . I won't be a prisoner to the past.  I think I've paid the penalty several times over for past transgressions (unintentional or otherwise) and have come a long way since those early days.  And I won't let fear of failure become a self-fulfilling prophecy either.  Of course, with that said, I realize that the outcome of this situation is far from certain and the odds remain stacked against me.  Failure is still definitely a very real possibility here.  But, so is true love.  And for that, I am willing to make a wager.

--KM

p.s.  Thanks to Double D for that Rumi quote.

"Luck be a lady tonight."