Defending Love: The Ultimate Uninsurable Risk

Charlotte McMullen essays

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Defending love is futile. Don't waste your time. I have calculated the risks and deemed It “UNINSURABLE.”

There is great risk involved with It.

If It were part of an insurance audit, It would be shit out of luck.

Its application would be boldly branded with the red “UNINSURABLE” rubber stamp due to Its high risk.

Extreme sports and dangerous lines of employment that carry exorbitant premiums are nothing compared to It. The cost of It is one you cannot financially or emotionally afford to pay. It will break you.

I have experienced what can and will result when It goes away.

It will not get me again.

I will run away. Build a wall around myself so high and strong that It will be unable to reach me. Yes, alone; but more importantly I will be safe. I will never have to feel the inevitable pain and heartache of It.

Here I am; safe in my fortified refuge.

And undeniably, mind-numbingly, bored, lonely and in the dark. Why in the Hell didn't I install a light in here?

I hear sounds outside of my walls—talking and laughter.

Curiosity takes Its cue, and begins to argue with the confidence of a skilled litigator in defense of It.

Damn my open mind and curiosity's negotiation skills. It is good.

I am convinced a peek outside will do no harm. I say, “Just to see.”

I tentatively remove one of my wall's blocks. It is there. I knew It would be.

Damn It!

I quickly turn, firmly pressing my back against the cold wall. Despite my sly attempt to evade detection, It notices me and sweetly invites me to join It.

It assures me that It understands I am afraid and It is willing to wait.

It patiently explains that there is no guarantee for participating in Its games. But It claims that uncertainty is one of Its benefits. A gift to be given and received with open hands.

Holding my sweaty hands in Its own, It tells me there will always be an unavoidable outcome. Loss is indeed inevitable.

It will end someday. But only here. It lives on in Its true form. I will just have to trust It.

I had hardly noticed that as It had been convincingly defending love, the many versions of It had been slowly, and carefully taking my wall down. It leads me out into the light.


About the Author

Charlotte McMullen

Charlotte lives in Pennsylvania with her farmer husband and their five daughters. She writes about her salty sweet life at .

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February 2015 – XO
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