The Sure Thing
Sometimes, it's all you need to be reminded of.
Sometimes, like anybody, I have my moments of weakness. I have those wobbles of confidence anyone has. Sometimes, it's memory more than the moment. Sometimes, it's feeling yourself absorbing and building up negativity that will eventually explode. But I've got a sure thing.
I consider myself a happy-go-lucky, positive person. I joke about my opinion of myself, about being this or that, but in truth? I'm a down-to-earth kid with a whole lot of fantasyland that I enjoy running through. It doesn't hurt anybody. I'm kind and considerate and patient. Usually. But I do have my moments of doubt.
And that's when the sure thing comes back to me and makes my world shine like the sun again.
I was lucky this past couple of years. I met a few people I consider to be very good friends; people I've spent hours debating, discussing, dissecting the world with. I've had the opportunity to develop wonderful bonds. I've also learned a lesson or two about things I thought I'd not see after high school, but that is why wings don't hold water. I met a wide variety of folks I'd never have conversed with, many of whom I may never again. It's been an adventure.
But none have thrilled me, helped me, or healed me, as much as my sure thing.
I haven't grabbed the bull by the horns and gone all-out wild on the lifestyle, but I've tested waters and found what I like, what I don't, and what I’d never considered might work for me. And that's great, because that's what I came here to do—I came to find out who I am, and who I can be.
I found that one careless word can paint terrible canvases. One good one can paint perfection. One word can breed ugliness and judgement, another can unite forces. I found that those who band together are strong, but not untouchable. I found that some rocks are best left not rolled over.
You will never impress everyone.
You will never be a unanimous "yes"—but you can introduce yourself to new voters. There is always going to be someone who sees more in you than you see in yourself, and so much more than anyone has seen thus far. There will always be one you can turn to, one you can count on, one you want. One who, best of all, wants you. Take hold of that person. Never let their voice be drowned out by anyone else's.
They are your sure thing, but only if you keep them so.
I was thinking and writing of goals recently. Some pipe dreams, some attainable. All doable, and no guaranteed failure. That's progress in my book, because for one who jokes about elitism, and narcissism, and entitlement, I've spent my life carving out failure so that the people who bullied and whittled and tried to force my failures could never win - I'd fail myself long before they'd have the satisfaction of seeing it. I was a sure thing.
But then my magic happened. I've spent forever envying people for things I've worked toward but never achieved, for things I've wished for desperately, and never been granted. But one day, curiosity and intrigue, and mystery, wandered right on up to me.
What I should stress here is that I've spent two years crafting an idea, a persona. I've spent all of this time creating "The Man," that sometimes was cruel and others was kind, was good and the devil rolled into one.
I found him. I found my Man.
And we talk about the future and homes and days ahead.
We talk about goals and plans, and how to reach them.
And tonight, amidst work promotions and skin care, he reminds me again. He leans in, whispering right into my brain. He's the sure thing.
My certain smile.
My sure thing.
About the Creator
Amy Cookson
Mid-to-late twenties, curly-haired, Lancashire lass, with a penchant for film, smut, and country music.
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