You Can Take The Girl Out Of The Country...

That's right.  You can't take the country out of the girl. 

Free and wild, rebel child.

Fading

One day I will look back on all of these so-called man problems and see how blessed I was.  Blessed to have been adored while I was getting older, but still young enough to reel it in.

 

Yet I can hear my mortality knocking at the door;  "As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door", as Edgar Allan Poe said in The Raven.  "Tis some visitor", I mutter, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."

Being The Other Woman

Being The Other Woman was flattering when it was just words. 

Being The Other Woman was not a possibility, until it happened.

Being The Other Woman was no longer flattering.

Being The Other Woman was a symptom of a weak mind and a gnawing, self-subjected disease of years of neglect.  I had injected my arms with needles full of neglect for so many years, and then not realizing it latched on to the next high, the better high, of attention from a married man. 

A dangerous addiction that I finally overdosed on one night, and a big part of me died for a very long time.  I lost my self-worth, my innocence, my integrity as a friend, the integrity of my words.  I hated me. 

But I put myself in rehab for it.  And now, I am clean. 

I have faced it head on: the banishment, the ridicule, the sideways glances, the nasty comments, and even the lies about it.  I have invited the revenge with an understanding that an apology would never be enough.  And because of these things, I like who I am today.  I am a better person today for finally facing it, and in the end not tolerating anything less than direct communication about it to snuff those who love chaos.  And now, clean and sober, fully aware of how and why it happened, knowing that it never will again; I like me.

Curiosity Killed The Cat

One man persues, kisses, bruises, and then leaves, never to be heard from again.  Then another man persues, kisses and worships, and keeps coming back for more.  One man handles it in the most civilized, gentlemanly and respectful manner, and another man handles it with harrassment and violence.  One man isn't ready, one man is ready right now, one man isn't sure, another man couldn't be more convinced; in this love life that I have treated like one big science experiment.

Cleansing

How wonderful it feels to no longer care!  How good it feels to not love you, and not hate you: to truly and finally feel apathy.  The beautiful, cleansing bliss of, when your name is mentioned, to finally, finally, finally feel nothing at all!

No Ordinary Love

Many years ago Sade released a song called No Ordinary Love.  She longingly crooned "...there's nothing like, you and I, baby.  This is no ordinary love, no ordinary love...".  We all like to think that our love is special, that it's different from everybody else's love; that THIS love is not what other people have experienced before.  It's easy to feel that way in the throws of infatuation and the adreneline rush high of new love.  Most people realize at some point that their love is like everyone else's, that it is wonderful, but common.  And then sometimes, every now and again, something uncommon actually does come along.  Something comes along unexpectedly; a love like Queen Victoria of England and Prince Albert.  A love like Johnny Cash and June Carter or a love like Patrick Swayze and Lisa Neimi, or like Steve and Terri Irwin who all met well before they were famous, and went on to create a legacy together.  A legendary love.