"I'll only fly away / I don't know where my soul is / I don't know where my home is"
I have commitment issues. My longest Pre-Dusty relationship lasted 18 continuous months. Generally, around the one-year mark, I would start getting the feeling that I needed to fly free. I wouldn't even allow a guy to call me his girlfriend until we had been dating at least four months. One guy introduced me around at a company party as his girlfriend only one month after we had started dating. On the way home, one of my nine mouths opened up and sang a song of doom called OH HELLZ NO. He didn't call me his girlfriend again until we had been dating for six months. The issue ceased to exist six months after that.
My commitment issues stem from being chronically--but randomly--risk-averse. I go to Las Vegas to see the shows. If I gamble, it is only because I am (a) reasonably drunk or (b) with a bunch of friends who want to shoot craps or (c) both of the above. And yet, I was willing to commit to a Vampire: The Eternal Struggle (aka Jyhad) logo tattoo on my lower back. By some accident of fate, my appointment was postponed for 24 hours and Dusty designed a far more gorgeous tattoo, while still keeping the elements I liked about the logo. In retrospect, thank Goddess. I'm geeky, but I'm not "obscure niche card game logo tattoo" geeky.
Buying a house is a huge commitment. So I am perhaps understandably angst-ridden about our continuing housing saga. Dusty and I dated for four years before we got married! Now we're trying to (1) secure financing (2) find a house we like (3) pack and (4) move within the next two months? And all while Dusty is still on crunch time and I'm trying to get the damned permanent residency application together? This is all moving way too fast. It's getting too serious. And I have a name already, so don't call me your girlfriend!
(TANGENT: Really, Canada? You need to know every single address I've had since I was 18 years old? You say I can just describe the building if I don't remember the address. Why? Are you gonna do a drive-by? Will you not allow me to permanently reside here if I had lived in a yurt for a couple of months in 1996? C'monnn... )
One of the many reasons why I am married to this particular husband is that he gets me. Whenever we have a big decision to make, he patiently listens to me blather on about all my fears and then calmly brings logic into the discussion. (Stupid logic! Always making sense and shit.) He was the first guy to make me feel safe enough to take the risks we have taken together. "What if the canyon is deeper than we think it is?" I always ask. "Don't worry. I'll hold your hand as we jump," he always promises. "Everything will be all right."
I know everything will be all right. I do. This is just the part right before we jump, when my butt puckers up because oh sweet Moses there are risks! And questions! What if the house we decide to buy needs a whole bunch of improvements? Will we earn enough equity in the house to make it worth the money and effort we'll put into it? What if we tie up all our money in the house and we have some Great Big Unforeseen Emergency? What if the canyon is deeper than we think it is?
I think I was born to be an editor. I would take a whole lot more risks if I knew I could go back and correct for passive voice. Life needs a Ctrl-Z option.