Somewhere along the road, what was once charmingly funny or endearing becomes annoying. “He only eats this brand of chips?”, “She reads those trashy magazines?” or “S/he’s indecisive – I have to choose the restaurant every time we go out, even on special occasions like his/her birthday!”.

Vulnerability acts like a secret password—when we’ve been let in on another’s, we feel special, like we’ve made it inside this person’s inner circle. But later, when we want the other to be perfect, when we want them to be stronger than us, when we want to be able to depend on them, that same vulnerability—evidence of how we are all neither perfect nor perfectly dependable nor always strong—can be infuriating.

Perhaps it scares us too much.

Perhaps their idiosyncrasies reveal a character flaw which we didn’t care to admit  during  earlier days together because we were too caught up in the idea of being ‘in a relationship’.

Perhaps it’s easier to get angry and annoyed than to face our loved one’s possible fragility.

Whatever the reason, these vulnerable acts test our resilience to accommodate another human being in our personal lives and spaces.

We hope that we can spend a majority of our waking hours, informing each other looking forward to the days where our synched minds inevitably regurgitate selective accordances while squabbling over the resulting variances.

As selfish as we generally all are, with all our specific wants, desires,  tastes and compulsions – we hope to nevertheless work towards a common goal.

That day when we  allow another to see our true form and, in that excruciating moment of bated breath and/or searching into the other’s eyes (hoping to see our souls reflected in theirs so as to signify ‘soulmates’) as we wait for their judgement –

we all hope that the other will see passed our endearing traits, no longer so endearing, as a testament that they can accept us, faults and all – and sometimes, if we love them enough, we do the same back.


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