But what if it doesn’t work?
But what if it all falls apart?
But what if my heart gets broken?
But what if the only thing that’s left is emptiness in the end?
These thoughts run through my head. They twist and turn and take shape in the back of my mind, making me wonder, making me doubt. It’s so easy to get lost in the fear. It’s so easy to be hesitant, to fall victim to the voices of uncertainty. It’s so easy to think of all that could go wrong instead of what could go right.
But I’m working on shutting off my mind and listening to my heart.
I’m working trusting, rather than questioning.
I’m working on letting go, and letting love take its course.
I know that in love, in life, in work, in dreams—in anything, really—there is a chance I will crash and burn. There is a chance that my project will look like garbage, that my words will fall flat, that the dreams I have will be stale and unfinished, that the relationships I build will crumble, that the love I have will be destroyed.
There’s a chance I will completely mess things up. There’s a chance I will say the wrong thing and watch people I care about disappear from my life. There’s a chance what I believed so strongly in will no longer come to fruition. There’s a chance I will fall and fail.
But its infinitely better to try, to give in, to trust, to love, to say ‘yes,’ than to not know at all.
It’s infinitely better to pick myself from the dirt, to wipe the shadows and cobwebs and mistakes from my skin, to rise to my feet and say, ‘Well, I tried,’ than to live my entire life looking back—wondering, wishing, asking ‘what if?’
I don’t want to be the person who stays on the sidelines. I don’t want to be the person who’s too afraid to try. I don’t want to be the person who lets life happen to them, around them, instead of playing an active role.
I know that I cannot control what happens. I know that as much as I try, I can’t fix or mend or save myself and the people I love from pain. I know that I can have all the resolve in the world, all the fight, all the plans and preparations and, yet, I still might end up broken.
But honestly, that’s okay.
I’d rather be broken than sit in a bubble and watch the world pass me by. I’d rather get hurt than never know how it feels to touch the hands of a person who loves me. I’d rather fail then never try to build a foundation with someone, or start a project, or believe in a dream.
I’d rather die than not experience a life worth living.
So ask me about failure, ask me about defeat, ask me about broken hearts and stubbed toes and emptiness and getting over people who have left. Ask me about lonely nights and tear-stained pillows and rejection letters and closed doors.
Ask me about all the things that have gone wrong in my life and I will tell you this: I’m thankful.
Because I’ve learned, I’ve grown, I’ve loved, I’ve healed, I’ve fallen, I’ve failed, I’ve started over, I’ve began again and again.
And I would rather experience all those things—the beautiful, the terrible—than to be on this earth not knowing how it feels to live.