Out with the old.

I threw out a bunch of old journals earlier this year,which, at the time was liberating.  Confession: most of what I wrote was about men so it was a beautiful sort of poetic justice that all those lovers of years past ended up in the garbage can with coffee grounds and yesterday's want ads.


But sorting through bags of stuff I used to find valuable I came across a few more recent journals I'd overlooked. I have to say, skimming through them was most entertaining. It seems that what I dealt with two years ago parallels all too familiarly with what is occurring now.  Another narcissistic melancholic who can't seem to handle the loving confrontational assertiveness that is me? NO!

I am a Romeo. A fickle, falls in love with everyone, can't see the warning signs till I've drunk the poison Romeo. Somehow when I'm in the middle of such perfect "love" I always seem to forget this fact. Much like Violet Bick I like every boy and what IS wrong with that? Nothing except I'm incapable of perspective when I'm in the land ofThe Likes. The Loves, now that's another island altogether. Once you've leapt there the only way off is a LONG swim in which many inevitably drown. Thus our desperation to cling to the island of love even if what we're clinging to seems to be tiring of our presence. They just don't know what's best for them and clearly I do. I am such an excellent judge of character after all. What, you don't have a job and you don't know who you are and you have Mommy issues and intimacy issues and you don't wear deoderant? You are my dream come true Prince Charming!! Come, let's run and frolic and sing songs and....


Oh. You left already. Hmm. Perhaps I made a slight error once again.


Aw well, you know me and I'm bound to be in love once again in precisely...oh, seventy-two days, give or take 1000. Things slow down as I grow older and I may actually be learning from all the psychos I've entangled myself with. Oh I'm sorry, did I say psychos? I meant emotionally challenged intellectually stinted juveniles. Is that a more PC way to put it?


Further still I'm realizing the joyous freedom of remaining a singleton and not spending the majority of my time trying to decipher the meaning behind some guys' text or worrying over what topics to discuss on my less than stimulating date. Think I'll stick to what moves me, inspires, challenges, strengthens and induces growth. And frankly, darling, that doesn't include the lot of you.

Mix that with your stevia and choke on it.