Pride

There are very few times in my life I've actually asked for comfort.

Rejection is high on my list of the things I fear most in the world.... almost as much as grasshoppers. It causes my chest to constrict, my hard won self confidence to plummet, my so seldom put forth need for others pulled back and tucked away, and a sharp knife is brought out to remove my nice, straight nose from my face before I'll do it again, I vow.

Pride.

It is my worst enemy. It is my saviour. It is there at all times. I give over parts of me at times to those I trust, and I can assure you, if I finally break down, it is because you do have my trust... even then, it's the outer wall that has been opened. Not that it matters, I am not one to go forth with all, bits and pieces will seep forth, as I grow to believe you won't betray me.

If I bend enough to say, "I need".... and if I add on, "I fear" with that... rejection at that point will pretty much put me in a place I won't return from in our relationship... no matter how long we know each other. I will never open that door again.

It's my loss.

I'm not sure why we have that in us, we humans... that desire to seek out comfort, and such pain when it's denied. The sometimes equal sense to nurture, to console, to wrap ourselves around someone, guard their scary closet door, give them succor.

To not be alone when things go bump in the night, perhaps. Or when our hearts are sad. When we feel the need, not of mad wild passion, but, of someone's breathing in the night.

Still, you live through it, and carry on.

Right?



Our Neville Fact:

Neville fly fishes every year in the Highlands, with his good friend, Jonathon Maxwell Bennington-Homes. They camp, fish, and hike for a week, roughing it by taking baths in the cold Highland streams and cooking the fish they catch over an open fire. Wearing kilts, they live and breathe as Highland clansmen used to do, feeling all the more close to nature for it.