lost boys

Folder Full of Exes

December 13, 2017

For the record, I wrote this last night and this morning.

It is now 10:45 on a Tuesday morning. I was just prompted to open my horoscope from http://live.ezezine.com/ezine/archives/3_11/3_11-2017.

I must have missed last week’s but it lends itself well to how I have been feeling. I keep catching these glimpses of the love I want and they are fleeting. But the acknowledgement of their existence with tangible proof is making me hungry for more. It is time to admit, that although I put forth a brave face and say things like “I understand” and “I am really okay being alone” (because I am) there exists in me a romantic who feels lonely.

I keep getting shown what is possible, just to have it become impossible.

Now I know nothing is impossible, and maybe this is leading me up to something bigger and better. I know my imagination cannot fathom all there is. But I am starting to get a taste of it.

GEMINI (May 21-June 20):

I’m guessing you have been hungrier than usual. At times you may have felt voracious, even insatiable. What’s going on? I don’t think this intense yearning is simply about food, although it’s possible your body is trying to compensate for a nutritional deficiency. At the very least, you’re also experiencing a heightened desire to be understood and appreciated. You may be aching for a particular quality of love that you haven’t been able to give or get. Here’s my theory: Your soul is famished for experiences that your ego doesn’t sufficiently value or seek out. If I’m correct, you should meditate on what your soul craves but isn’t getting enough of.



When posed the question

I wonder whose arms I would fall into if I was drunk in a room full of everyone I have ever loved.*

My answers have changed over the years, over the course of this blog especially. Or have they?

60-70% of my adultish life the answer was always my high school sweetheart.

But sweetheart implies we had a good relationship and we didn’t. We didn’t even try until way later in life and by then we both had kids by someone else and were separated by the bulk of a continent. But I would have run to him regardless.

12.13.14 that all changed and I let go.

I started this blog 8 days later.

He still pops up now and again.

Last year he got separated. He told me we owe it to ourselves to give this a shot, also implied wanting to make his (now) ex-wife jealous. The one I warned him about. To which I replied, “We need to talk”. That was summertime I think, and he has yet to message me back. I am not a tool for revenge.

One of these things is not like the others, but it ain’t him apparently.

But this isn’t about that.

This is about scrolling past pics of my exes every time I open my downloaded files on my computer, which I do…pretty much daily for the last couple weeks. I have got to clean out my pictures, like now.

For the record I am not a stalker, most of them are on my Facebook or Instagram as friends.

And there was a valid reason for it.

My girl Alli, oh she is a sight to behold, my perfect pin up girl with a heart of gold. God I love her.

Anyways, there was some sadness lingering after I got home from out east, after the Last One left, when Giant became dearly departed again. I am rolling with it as best I can, but still. Little punch drunk.

She, Alli, messaged to check on me, distracted me and then slowly started asking those good, yet gentle questions about what was going on with me.

She knows the Hulk, they went on a date or two before we did.

*And I think that’s my answer. I would say hello and check on everyone in my drunken flitting butterfly way and make sure they were okay, but when it came time to land, I would search him out.
I feel safest with him. The romantic attachment is a thin one, but he knows me better than most everyone and I feel safest with him.

So, there’s that then.

Maybe I sent off a list of specific requirements to the universe as I realized, by being with these men, what is actually possible. Maybe universe is waiting for me to get my shit together, maybe he is on his way. And maybe I don’t get one prince and a happily ever after. Just some really good standalone chapters that end abruptly.

Not my ideal, but definitely what I am used to.

I remember Cruz saying he didn’t want to be just some guy I wrote about. Sorry honey. What choice did I have? None, you gave me no choice.

It does come down to that often. Leaving the Giant again, no choice. Thai Fighter was engaged and a fling. Lumberjack in a pre-existing relationship. Hulk had somewhere he needed to be and I couldn’t follow.

But why do I have a collection of pics of my exes in a folder?

The conversation with Alli meandered, covering varying topics. She asked me if I had a ‘type’. I laughed.

I knew where she was going with this. She was going to see if there was some man friend of hers she could set me up with.

Spent 3 minutes upon the internet and came back with pics of 7/10 guys I have dated in the last 5 years.

In doing so, I realized there I literally have no type. Heavily tattooed, big and bulky, kinda tattooed, towering tall, my height, not tattooed at all. Barber, mortician, tattoo’er, construction worker, carpenter, truck driver. 5’10” to 6’5”. Thick, thin. A couple of red heads, a blonde, mostly brunette and (my favorite) the Italian ginger.
No rhyme or reason. The only connective thread I can spy with my little eye is they all have kind eyes.
And sometimes, but not always beards, I love beards.

The connection between all of them, the ones worth mentioning anyways, is the connection itself.

How I felt around them. How I still feel to a degree, 5/10 I can still call if I am having a panic attack, for advice or a shoulder or just something to keep me tethered to this planet when I am spinning off into outer space.

Which I do, with fairly alarming frequency.

I get attached, I do. Even when I try not to for practical reasons, like age gaps etc.

I fought it at first, tooth and nail, sword and shield. My marriage was shit as was the next one, and I equated relationships with prison.

I had that mindset when I met the Hulk and I regret it. I should have shut up and let things go whatever way they were supposed to go. That lesson has been tattooed on my psyche. I have zero expectations and even fewer rules now. I just see what happens.

I am not looking for a type at all, the man doesn’t matter so much as the relationship I want, which can be summed up in 2 words, practical magic.

I think I am evolving. I hope I am.

You Might Also Like

  • Robert Wertzler December 13, 2017 at 11:09 am

    What leaps to mind reading this?

    1. “He not busy being born is busy dying.” – Bob Dylan
    2. When I look back on the women I’ve been involved with, there’s no “type”, not among the long ones, the short ones, and the ones that didn’t quite happen. The connecting thread is still elusive.
    3. Somewhere, in all the fantasies and dreams there is one exchange that marks the decision point; “I feel safe.” “Me too.”

  • error: Content is protected !!