You know those stories where people have misunderstandings or near misses, like lost letters, and make massive assumptions as a result? I watched/read several of those kind of stories and I hated them. I hated the time that was wasted by not being together. I hated the gulf that separates people, two or more, because it was fuelled by ego and misunderstanding. There is no cure for an ego, but misunderstanding is easily resolved by communication.
Then there is this overwhelming fear of looking back on my life and experiencing regret. Regret that I didn’t try to build bridges, or fix that broken bond sooner. My rule for when I am angry with someone is: if that person were to stop existing tomorrow, how would I feel about being angry with them today? And more often than not, my temper cools and I realise that I wouldn’t want to end any relationship on an angry note.
These two factors are the primary reasons for me always being the first to make up with someone. I always reach out first. I always apologise first. I don’t care about the power factor of waiting for someone else to make the first move, because I got over my insecurities a long time ago. The maximum risk I take is being shot down. That means the worst thing I have to deal with is to learn that I valued a relationship more than the other person.
I always make the first move. Always. There have been no exceptions. In fact, I have brought warring family members together too. It is just part of my character now, even though at one point they were deliberate decisions.
But now, I have made the grand gestures, and I can’t any more. Not because I don’t want to, but it is no longer up to me. I am out of moves. All I can do is hope.