Safe

How would you feel if someone you were dating told you they think you are "safe"? Your first instinct might be to feel slightly insulted. I'm more exciting than "safe," aren't I? Safe is boring. But you'd be wrong. Safe is not boring. Safe is beautiful. Providing safety to someone you love is one of the most precious gifts you can give them. Safety doesn't mean a lack of excitement. It doesn't mean a lack of adventure and spontaneity. And it most certainly does not mean a lack of passion.

Tell your partner 5 things you like about them.

We were playing a game. It was a list of questions designed for a research study that were intended to bring people closer together. We'd had a night full of adventure, and giggling, and amazing sex. Really, really amazing sex. We were exhausted, but not yet ready to go to sleep. Going to sleep would mean that our beautiful night was over, and neither of us were ready for that. If we could have stopped time, I think we would have. But, since we couldn't stop time and were too drained to make love again, this game would have to do. Besides, it wasn't often we pulled our lips apart long enough to have real conversations. We have so much more to learn about each other.

Tell your partner 5 things you like about them.

I started with something superficial. "You're incredibly handsome."  It was easier that way. Maybe I could ease into the deeper stuff. "You're an amazing lover. The best I've ever had," I continued. "You're kind-hearted..." I paused. Were there more easy answers? Would I be doing the question a disservice if I didn't reveal something more profound? "You're a positive force in my life." I felt bashful the moment I said it. "Ugh, I sound like such a hippie."

"No, I like it." He assured me with a genuine smile. "What's number 5?"

I knew what I wanted to say next, but this one felt even cheesier than the last. And more vulnerable. I hesitated and wondered if I should try to come up with something else. Something safer. Oh, the irony..."You make me feel safe."

He was silent. I wondered if I should explain, but I thought he must already get it. He knows I'm afraid. He knows I'm broken. He knows that my heart works really hard to protect itself, even when I don't want it to.

Finally, he spoke. "That makes me really happy to hear that."

He pulled me closer to him and held me tightly. Yes, he does know. He knows that, to me, safety isn't about not taking risks. On the contrary, it's only when I feel completely safe that I can take risks. I suppose that doesn't make a lot of sense. Is it really taking a risk if you already feel safe? In my case, yes. Falling in love again is an enormous risk. It's terrifying to imagine someone to having that much power over me again. The last time I truly fell in love, it almost killed me. Literally. Why would I ever put myself in that position again? What could possibly be worth risking that kind of pain?

We all know the answer to that question. Television shows and movies tell us the answer all the time: Love. Love is worth the risk. It's cheesy. Really, really cheesy. But just because it's cheesy doesn't mean it's not true. I'm so tired of the numbness. I'm tired of having to use drugs to access even a tiny portion of my real emotions. I want to take risks, I really do. I even tried to force it a few times. He seems like a nice guy, I should try falling in love with him. I even told some of them that I loved them, but it wasn't true. I wanted to love them. I wanted to be able to love them. I just couldn't.

Until now. I felt it the first night we made love. That safety. That trust. That wonderful feeling of letting down my guard. I suppose that's why I try to see him so often. I want to feel that safety. It's like a drug. It frees me.

So that's what being safe is to me. It's freedom. It's trust. And it's the most amazing feeling I've felt in a long, long time.