“Hi – My name is Tenisha Jones
and I sorta have a committment phobia
I’m willing to acknowledge it
but I wouldn’t dare put the disclaimer on a label
that makes it too easy for you to read what I’m made of
and verbally divulge the missing ingredients
that would make me purely organic
love doesn’t grow naturally inside of me
I produce man-made emotions
and recently,
it’s become the source of my heart burning
and I no longer like the taste of loneliness
so I’m hoping the velocity of the words I spit
during this confession
will put out the flames
so you can enter injury free”

But are words enough?  I find myself falling in love.  Although I should be overjoyed –  just typing the words I and love in the same sentence raises my blood pressure and my body immediately goes into “fight or flight” because my heart senses danger.  Not because the man who’s awakening my senses is dangerous for he is a modern-day Prince Charming.  It’s because I’m fearful of becoming emotionally naked and reveal to him that I need him.  I find my level of energy has become dependant on the merging of our spirits, his consistent affirmation that my dreams will become a reality and his laugh.  Dependency scares me, conversely submission turns me on.

 As a lady, I feel less of a woman  admitting to committment phobia.  Instead of talks with this man about future white fences securing our family’s home, I change the subject and keep brick walls from letting my dreams of a family visit reality.  Or if I engage in a game of house, I refuse to categorize the mental imprint the experience leaves as more than just a play date.  Time is the detoured excuse from walking down the committment path for this courtship is just short of the four-month mark.  “I want to give him time, take it slow” was my response when a friend asked me today why I am not campaigning for the title of his girlfriend.  Excuses and accountability aren’t listed as synonyms so at some point, both he and I have to choose a word and act accordingly.  I know I’m tired of retreating without using all my artillery.  I may not have the weapons to win this fight but I’m willing to find the firepower tough enough to shoot through brick walls.

Usually I have a solution for the topics within my blog.  Today, I have none.  These feelings are truly hard to admit so I can only start with the confession:

“My name is Tenisha Jones
and I sorta have commitment phobia
I want to love this man
but I’m scared”

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