Today, I like new tires. And learning how to accept help and kindness.
I got a flat tire Friday night. I was on my way to meet Mr. eHarmony and some of his friends for dinner when an SUV pulled up alongside my trusty Honda. The driver honked and said my rear tire was really low. I thanked him and drove another four blocks to the restaurant.
How I managed that, I'm not really sure. The tire was flaaaaaaaat.
That sort of stuff freaks me out because I am not practiced in the ways of car maintenance, and it had been a really long day anyway. I'd flown back from California, made a quick pit stop to change my clothes, and then rushed to dinner. I was tired and flustered, and headed back out of town the next morning for a reunion with my pledge class. I didn't have time for a flat tire.
Long story short, I left my car at Mr. eHarmony's house. And he picked out some new tires for me. And washed my car. And filled the tank.
Now, I'm writing him a check for the tires - obviously. But it was such a relief to have someone who knew what they were doing offer to help. I've been on my own for so long - and as my mother pointed out, I was on my own even when I was supposedly in my last relationship. I'm not used to the luxury of a partner in crime, and it's made me forget how to ask for or be open to help.
I don't want to be the bitter, closed-off spinster. But the more I fall for Mr. eHarmony, the more I realize that I've slid down the slippery path more than I'd like to admit. Opening myself up to a new person - even though that person is kind and generous and has the best intentions - is frightening.
I firmly believe that you choose the way you want to live your life, and I refuse to live in fear. That's probably why I don't watch the news. But when it comes to really, really scary things like getting everything you've ever dared to dream of - well, I need some practice. But I like it.