ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Monday, February 07, 2005

Attitude Adjustment

Finally got my computer back today & have decided that working on a different one, metaphorically speaking, seemed like wearing someone else's pants.
The last few weeks brought on some serious down moods, to which I've pointed many fingers in many directions, settling on a big, fat finger pointed at myself. Knowing what I should do & actually doing it remains the difficult area. Last night I vividly dreamt of a situation I've mulled around in my head for quite some time now. Earlier, I commented on the "Ex-Parade", making a bit of a joke, as usual. However, now's the time to become a bit more serious about it. So late in the pm my subconscience took me into a conversation with the last guy I seriously dated. In the dream we sat, talking, when I finally said what I haven't said before. In summary, that at one time I loved him more than anything else, his soul. It remains the outside bullshit that I can't stand. Why this came up right now isn't quite beyond me. Saturday turned out an amazing, uncharacteristically nice February day, giving me the chance to spend some time outside, browsing record stores, looking at an apartment (so not buying that shithole), enjoying a spectacular modern dance class (shit, I'm still a little sore) & finally settling at home in my favorite sundress & sweater to make dinner, light candles, enjoy a bottle of wine & get in some long overdue writing. About 3 glasses into the tasty red with a butterfly on the label, I began thinking about what would have happened had he decided to skip town. I also realized that I would have left with him. Dropped it all, possibly to never have the opportunity to return. (romantic at heart, ssshhhh, don't tell anybody) However, it also finally sunk in that he didn't want to leave & the root of our problem was far from going away & never would. There would always be something or someone more important than me in his life. You selfish bitch. But not really. After years of dating men who've ranked me #2 (many times even lower) for more reasons (mostly piss-poor, I might add) than I would like to admit, it all comes down to one thing. I allow it. In fact, I almost applaud it. And I think that Saturday I let it go. I let him go. And in turn, let myself go, too.
So now it's time to take off the bandaid. The wound has scabbed over to the point that unless I pester it, it will heal nicely on its own. Maybe I'll look at it from time to time. Sometimes good to remind ourselves where we've been. Off I go, into a hazy evening, towards the pool.


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