My grandfather sat in his chair rocking back and forth. I walked straight in the front door, no knock was necessary, it never was for family. Over the years I have grown more distant from my family, going to college in a different city will do that. I moved the plethora of pillows on the old red coach that had been there for as long as I could remember and sat down. The conversation started off as it always does. An attack of questions about school, work, and then he would always ask if I had met a girl yet. I always would respond with the same “nothing serious” which was true, it was never anything serious. Usually he would respond with a joke or a word of advice, instead this time he asked me. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess I haven’t found the right one.”
“Well, are you looking?”
I was almost annoyed with the question, of course I had been looking. Right? I think I have… If I have been looking why for the past three years have my relationships been casual fling or one night stands? “I think I’m scared.” I answered like if I was just a boy again, I wasn’t scared to admit to myself I was scared.
“Why?” He looked up at me. His eyes seemed sad, his face older than usual, almost frail.
“I’m scared of getting hurt. I’m scared of committing time to something that won’t last in the end.”
“If everyone is scared, how does anyone find anyone?”
“It’s pretty simple,” He looked up and smiled. “Find the one who doesn’t scare you. Find the one who you feel comfortable with and can tell anything. Find your best friend and fight like hell when shit hits the fan and trust me, shit will hit the fan. More than once, but if together you aren’t scared, nothing can break the bond you have with each other.”
I drove back home that night with his words on my mind. I’ve been scared for a long time, maybe it’s time to be brave.