Afraid of the ‘yes’

Dave and I would be on the bikes. Putting in some Km’s after working out.

The conversations are always better once the sweat starts. It’s like the good half of the first drink at a cocktail party. Everyone starts warming up and listening to Sarah talk about her latest group project is almost bearable. Actually, it’s not like that at all.

But we’d be going and then we’d start talking about girls.

‘How’s Jenny going?’

‘We’ve been chatting every day,’ I said, ‘you’ll love this.’

Then I’d tell him a story about Jenny.

‘Have you asked her out yet?’

‘Nah,’ I’d look forward, ‘not yet.’

‘What are you scared of?’

‘I think I’m afraid of the yes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You see, if she says yes, then I have to make something of it.’ ‘But if I don’t ask, then I get to keep this feeling of what it would be like.’

‘Yeah mate, I get ya.’

You see the thing was, playing the game was fun. Having something being there but not quite there.

Not asking was the easy option. That’d mean I’d stay chasing after Jenny and not having to worry about stepping up if she actually said ‘yes.’

I wasn’t afraid of the ‘no’. I could handle that. I was already living the ‘no’. We’d never been on a date. A ‘no’ would mean same old, same old.

A ‘yes’ would’ve been far scarier. Then I would’ve have to had been a man and put my money where my mouth was.

The opportunity you’re looking for may be staring at you in the face.

But instead of saying ‘yes’ to it, you let go without acknowledging it.

In the short term, it’s much easier to keep doing what you’re doing.

And the long term? Perhaps not as much.

I never asked. And you can always predict the answer of not asking.

So if fear is only of the unknown and you always know what happens you don’t ask. Are you afraid of the ‘yes’?

I was.

And now? Perhaps not as much.