Ghosts

So in three weeks I have had three voices from my past come to haunt me.  Three voices from different times in my life and when I was in different places  Not only physically but emotionally.  All three voices were past loves who were the best and worse of my life.  Two of which asked me the same question, Do you ever think about “us”?  Sad thing is, yes.  Usually at the start of a relationship when I am evaluating who I am as an individual.  Cause, should we not know who we are as an individual before we endeavor to become a couple?

So, who am I as an individual?  If I were to choose five of my top characteristics they would be:  Great Mom/Daughter, Loyal Friend, Passionate Love, Hard Worker, Versatile.

And I guess to truly evaluate I would need the worse five characteristics.  And those would be:  Impatient, Hold Grudges, Self Deprecating, Stubborn, Cynical.

Wow, my five good ones make me sound like Susie Homemaker Soccer Mom while my worse five make me sound like Miss Curmudgeon 2009.  I like to think of myself as a quazi-decent person so I am hoping I am a smidgen of all those things with not too much of any one (although cynicism is a fine honed characteristic that I wear like a comfy pair of Chucks).  Well, there is one that I am just full of – Impatience.

As I sit here I can attest to the fact that I want a road map of the rest of my life laid out before me so I can brace myself for the bumps and beatings scheduled for the rest of my time on this little planet we call Earth.  I am so tired of the bumps and beatings.  No, really, I am.  Do you know how tiring it is to dream of a fairytale and simultaneously feel unworthy of it?  Exhausting.  And then, when the opportunity presents itself, to sit there and try to figure out everything all at once right now in preparation of the inevitable heartbreak?  Really Ms. Rodriguez, I am only showing up with flowers on our first date as a nicety and not to signify the death of love as we know it…. sigh

I live with the inability to allow life to unfold before me without trying to brace for whatever bad looms around the corner.  All for reasons which good therapy or an expensive bottle of tequila could easily draw out of me.  So, if Iknow these things why do they persist?  That, my friend, is my pondernace for this evening.  That and why is it that beer makes us pee so much?

And before Erin has the opportunity to say it, yeah, yeah, I’m trying to cut the shit.