When I was little, I remember running with a line in my hand, pulling a kite behind me. I fell, scraped my knees and elbows, and from then on I never tried again.

Tonight I’m thinking, “Maybe that’s why I’m so bad at relationships.”


You see, once upon a time, I thought relationships were only about falling in love. You’d find someone to fall in love with, they’d fall in love with you, and poof: relationship.

Then I grew older, though I can’t say that I quite grew up, and discovered that relationship comes with its own set of rules. It’s like a game, with happily-ever-after as the ultimate jackpot prize. And one of these rules: the push-and-pull.

A friend kindly explained it to me. He said, “Micha, the thing about guys is that you have to draw them in. You can’t just do what you do and show them and give them everything from the get-go. You must know when to pull the strings and when to loosen them.”

Which got me thinking, maybe that’s why my relationships don’t work. I don’t play the game, much less care about or follow the rules. When I pull, I pull tight and don’t let go. It can get too much. Restrictive. Suffocating.


Maybe one day I’ll find the one who’s done with the games, who’d pull me tight and won’t let go as well.

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