:Paralysis:

My name is Sam, and I *may* sometimes worry myself into a paralysis when I face big decisions.

Thankfully, when I DID finally pop the question, my wife didn't sit there, rolling her eyes, wondering what took me so long. 

*audible sigh of relief*

But I DO tend toward a paralyzing fear of rejection, whether it's from someone I know, or a stranger.

Take the night I told my wife I liked her. LIKED HER. Not loved her, not wanting to marry her. No, this was at the start of our relationship, when I was informing her of the fact that I simply liked her.

I told her I had something I wanted to talk about, and she likely knew right away what it was, but she played coy and went along with my process. We met at the coffee shop on our college campus, because it was warm, as opposed to the outdoors in Alberta in January, which are far from warm. She ordered a London Fog, as they're called--an earl grey tea latte, if you're a Starbucks aficionado. We sat down together, and I was about to start talking, when I realized that we weren't alone in the coffee shop.

No, I'm not talking about the barista. Obviously, she was there.

There was a whole team of high school hockey players playing table hockey and fooseball and being generally rowdy. Why I hadn't really noticed them before this moment is anyone's guess... Though it likely had something to do with the fact that it was creating a busy enough soundscape that I didn't feel like I could concentrate on my own thoughts.

I asked if she'd be okay with taking a walk outside (remember where we were?), and, like a true American, she said "it's cold out there"... And like a true Canadian, followed it up with "but we can do that, sure."

So we set out, her London fog in hand, through what honestly was everything shy of an actual blizzard. It was dumping snow, and very cold. Only saving grace was it wasn't windy.

We walked for a very long time. I don't dare venture a guess, because I'm sure that in the moment, my sense of time was skewed. However, it was long enough for my wife's tea latte to turn to a puck of solid ice. I'm serious. It took me that long to actually get the words "I like you a lot" out of my mouth.

Except, it took even longer than that. I kept stumbling over my words and worrying aloud about how what I had to say might change everything for us, and not wanting to spoil our friendship with a bombshell and whatever else I could think of to say...except what I actually wanted to say.

Really, if she hadn't known what was coming before this moment, she knew by now.

So she tells me to spit it out, or she's going back inside where it's warm.

I miraculously manage, in a halting way, to tell her I like her, and she responds simply " I like you too."

We headed back inside, and that was that.

We have laughed often since then at this story, because it does seem a little ridiculous. Probably because it is a little ridiculous.

But it's how I have often functioned. I worry easily. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's there. I'm learning, but it's still there from time to time. And that worry can be paralyzing. It can make it impossible to do or say the things you know you need to; the things you know you should.

Thank goodness it doesn't take me that long to get around to saying the important things now.

At least, not in that area of life.

My name is Sam, and I *may* sometimes worry myself into a paralysis when I face big decisions.