20 Seconds of Insane Courage

I haven’t seen “We Bought A Zoo” yet (I will, based on my love of all things Matt Damon and Cameron Crowe) but one line from that movie keeps finding its way into my Twitter feed and Facebook wall: “All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage…”

I’ve been thinking about this since Sunday morning, when I logged on to a dating site I keep an open profile on, clicked on “who’s viewed me” and saw his face.

He looked at my profile.

He sent me no smiles or flirts or messages, but he looked at my profile.

Now, I know there are a million explanations for this--errant thumb hits link accidentally, dog paws on the keyboard, possibly forgotten he even knew me--but I’ve been thinking ever since I saw his face again if it was intentional.

And what might that mean?

And should I do anything about it?

I usually subscribe to the philosophy of “If he wants to be with you, he’ll find a way to be with you.”

But at the same time, I subscribe to the philosophy “Act as if everything depended on you, pray as if everything depended on God.”

I’ve spent many hours on my knees about this one, from the day we met, especially in the week that followed our breakup, and occasionally in the past year or so when I missed him so much I thought for sure I’d rather just feel nothing, have some “eternal sunshine of the spotless mind” procedure so I could forget how he made me feel.

I wanted to forget him.

And then this quote, "20 seconds of insane courage, and I promise you something great will come out of it."

And then today, this blog post, about a girl who refused to give up.

And I wonder--in all honesty--what is the harm of saying hello, happy holidays, hope you are well?

What is the worst that could happen? My heart is already broken, though stitched together with seasonal hope, so the worst is that he never reads the email, never responds, and a stitch or two pops open but heals back up in a day.

20 seconds of insane courage. It takes less than 20 seconds to send an email.

So I only need one.

Because honestly, at this point in my life, why not? I turn 40 in seven months. I’ve reconciled completely and peacefully with not having children. I’m truly okay with it. And most days, I’m completely and peacefully okay with not having a spouse. I love my career, I love my colleagues, I love my space that I can keep as neat-freakish or as slovenly as I wish, depending on my mood.

One second of insane courage. It’s something. An offering at the end of a year that can only be described as utterly hopeless.

So if anyone has one second of insane courage to lend me (or wants to talk me out of sending a two-sentence email), speak up. I'm not sure I can do this on my own.