I woke up this morning with that amazing, butterflies-in-the-stomach, anticipatory excitement that can only be associated with love. I dared not open my eyes for fear of that feeling fleeing, and, when I did, the sinking realization that it had all been a dream. But this is my reality, and it is a pretty fucking good one. I love the one in my life now, but the dream of the one that had been was unexpected... and, quite frankly, unwelcome.
Why, when I finally see a true path in my life, and really trust and believe that I have found the person who I would be honored and fortunate to spend that life with, does this blast from the past seep into my subconscious? And now, I find him front and center in my conscious mind, doing somersaults all over my brain and screaming, "HEY! REMEMBER ME???"
All day today I found my thoughts sneaking back into that long boxed-up and neatly packaged chapter of my life, the one that I presumed had been stored away in the "I'm cool with it" pile, next to the "Divorced Parents" and "I Will Never Be Model-thin" -labeled boxes. I kept feeling that embrace, the one from my nightmare masquerading in sheep's clothes, those arms wrapping me in a warmth and easy strength that I'm not really sure even exists in waking life. I kept remembering the cologne he used to wear- the one I still smell from time to time, the aroma never smelling as good as it did then.
Then the dawn... it will never waft past my nose quite as I recall, because it really never was that great. The proverbial "rose colored glasses," I suppose. It reminded me that the past is just that, the past. That was then, and this is my reality... a mature, mutually respectful partnership that is exactly what I deserve, and everything I want. The grass isn't always greener [I've just hit my cliche quota], and suddenly, instead of cursing my sleepy-time fantasy, I smiled at what it helped me rediscover... that I am exactly where I am supposed to be with exactly the one I am supposed to be with. Why do we ever bother to question the things that are so obviously good for us? Is there some tiny (asshole) voice of doubt that creeps up on us when we least expect it?
Last week, a great friend made the comment that "it is easier to be miserable than happy." Seems strange, huh? But think about it... its so much safer to think that everyone is against you, to throw up your arms in despair, and hide from yourself. When you go out in the world, blaze your own way, make your own decisions that only you can be held responsible for (and therefore judged upon), that can be a scary proposition- but the only path worth taking to find out what you want and what this big world can offer you.
At that, I dialed up my neuron packing crew, had them double-tape the box and put it back in its rightful spot. I'll go to bed tonight and have a true embrace from the guy who will always have a better scent than any other.
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