"Love will come through in the end."

Postulate: To demand or claim, to assume or claim as true, existent, or necessary . B* to assume as an established truth (as in logic or mathematics)

As the rain pelts outside, I’ve had some quiet time to sit and ruminate. I’ve been contemplating relationships--there are the great love stories we read, and the ones we experience that leave us a little bit maimed. I entitled Chapter 7, “Fear is the heart of love” --so, how much does fear really figure into our romantic relationships? I was asking about my idea of the “grand gesture”--which to me, is the moment, one person decides to take a leap of faith and put their feelings out in the open. Are we all just waiting on the grand gesture instead of making it? Ah yes, the reason we wait for the grand gesture is because we are too afraid to take that chance ourselves. After so many heartaches, is it still possible to put ourselves out there, vulnerable to another person, and possibly fall?

In various conversations recently, I’ve gathered a couple things:
1. “I heard once that love is like jumping off a building. You might fly, or you might crash at the bottom.”
2. “It’s not that I’m afraid of being in a relationship, it’s that I’m afraid of getting hurt, getting my heart broken.”

Two ideas, from two different people. But both invoke a question about fear. Number 1, falling in love is equated to possibly losing it all, losing yourself. Falling in love is said to be a leap of faith, a vulnerability. We are entrusting another person with our well-being, with our faith in love. So, after a few bad jumps and a few broken bones--are we capable of jumping as freely as we did the first time? Are we still hopeful that we will infact, fly?
To take the metaphor further--our ability to fly is determined by a series of factors, the weather and our own circumstances, for example. I worry that instead of taking it as the wrong time, we take it and store it away with our growing cynicism. Our new learned behavior is therefore, be skeptical..be guarded. But in reference to number 2, by filing it away with pessimism, are we ignoring the fact that in order to fly--we must have specific, crucial, elements?
I’ve started to put more and more stock in my theory that sometimes we fall and break our hearts, land flat on our faces, because, contrary to our inner skeptic, it just wasn’t the right time to fly. And after all, what would be so great about flying if we did it everyday?