Vulnerability.

Oh I see you in all my dreams

In realities

When did you sneak up on me?

Were my walls down?

Or had they become silky sheathed curtains by now

Did you turn a magic wand and transform them?

With that 6 string strumming against your fingers

And that slow shake you did with your tilted head,

your hair moving just a bit

Did the guard around my eyes

Run away, so I could glance and catch you watching me

Blinking so gently,

As if your lashes were all feathers

Is that how you walk into my dreams so easily, mister?

Wooing your way without even trying?

I could cross my hands and sit all day,

But they’d surely fall frail

When the sound of your heel gave away.

When did you sneak on me?

Oh but I really don’t mind anymore.

Vulnerability:

To feel exposed, such that you could be attacked very easily in that state of being.

I find the state of vulnerability an interesting point in any kind of human relationship. Especially if we just look at two people, irrespective of what their roles are going to be towards each other, being vulnerable is when the two will most likely feel the strangest kind of intimacy.

Strange is a fitting word, it is bittersweet to be vulnerable. Whether it’s in your own company, when you feel you could self-sabotage at this stage. Or in another’s company, where you’ve come to a point of knowing each other that the dynamics of this exchange demands more openness and access.

We build walls catering to each bad experience that happens to us. A very specific wall gets generated, a different material, a different visibility, a different texture depending on the situation you got through. And it feels very smartly well crafted, to a point that one feels oddly comfortable and at peace being unreachable to certain outsiders.

And then it happens, at your safest, most guarded position, this particular person walks into your life and without you really knowing you’ve now reached a point that they can see right through you.

An unsettling transformation takes place, these walls, hard and opaque have now turned transparent, fragile, soft, so much that a whiff of air could take it away. Moments like these, I feel the most aware of my body, of my being, my heart and my consciousness. Moments like these you stop feeling like a vessel and understand each fabric and event that led to your identity, because it all so close to being exposed.

"I think, for me 

It's basically opening up to an extent where it's the most easiest to infect me in any way 

It probably won't be words, or what I express but just what I let you know about me 

And it's not a decision a lot of times, it is something that happens naturally when you start feeling for someone 

And as you keep peeling one one layer off it feel like the more delicate your insides become.

And it's so beautiful, it's scary" - A friend. 

The initial fear, wondering if this will be the moment you reveal an integral aspect of your past, of you, that could be used against you. Maybe they would not like what they find, what they see, maybe they wouldn’t like how knowing you more makes them feel wrong and decide to walk away. This is exactly the minute when two people take a leap of faith. Do you allow yourself to be unguarded and vulnerable to attack/abandonment? Or do you allow yourself to be seen. Raw.

The most important part of this is not being accepted by the other, but the fact that when we do choose to take the leap of faith and trusting them, we in turn are accepting our own flaws. Accepting that whatever it is we were guarding within us can’t be so harsh, so bad. This moment of giving yourself credit, having faith in yourself is what makes the transformation from a solid wall to a curtain smooth in the last fraction of the process. It’s when you learn the most about yourself and not just about the other person. And maybe that’s why, after the vulnerability is gone, even if the outcome goes towards a bad direction, it wouldn’t suck as much. This is my favorite part of being vulnerable, there is a beauty in the end and that beauty has little to do with being accepted by another person, but being able to accept yourself, after clawing your own flesh and bones for so long.

Being on the other end of this, watching someone else being at their vulnerable worst, is a very beautiful human experience too. You find the most unexpected fears and uncertainties, the most brutally honest truths, the most unedited versions of a person and gosh isn’t that the most wonderful feeling in the world? Connecting without farces, without walls, without limitations. Words just flow, glances are longer, laughter lines go all the way on their face, hands are held gently, knowing fully how fragile this other human being is, erratic breaths and heart beats and the overall overwhelming nature of it all.