Day 41: The more things (seem) to change,

the more they stay the same.  Yes, after an extended absence, I thought that I'd begin with a cliche.  But cliches are words too and perhaps we refer to them so derisively is because the kernel of truth inherent in a cliche clutches at our hearts and our failure to recognize it, how it drives our actions makes us feel even more stupid for behaving in a way that is so very cliched.

Yes, it is another angst-y Saturday (wonder why the Bangles did not sing about that besides the lack of alliteration, I mean).   I went to kickboxing and am not hormonal.  Or at least no more than normal.   I am going to get more blonded.  I have the evening free to do as I wish.  Yes, I remain broke and about to get broke-r.  Am still living with my ex, albeit in my own bedroom.

Yet, I continue to be tormented by my sweet maybes, my attraction to unavailable men who are obviously unavailable, i.e. married and thousands of miles away, and not so obviously unavailable, i.e. single but haunted by their own ghosts.   What the fuck?  After a kick-ass workout this morning that left me sweaty and panting but smiling and feeling strong, I drove home on another perfect summer day.  Hot and blue-skied but with a breeze.  A full afternoon of things that I generally enjoy--blonding, shopping, and getting ready to do something tonight.

OR

Then, a shower epiphany.  Another one.  One that has left me shaken and teary and on the verge of doing something that in my heart, I know that I need to do to move on.   And have not been able to do because of the way that I have been haunted by, driven by the if-only-s, by the possibility of my sweet maybe.  Such a deliciously sweet maybe.  It hit me like a ton of bricks as the hot, soapy water washed away the sweat, revealing yet another pattern, a pattern within a pattern.   A pattern disguised as something else that really is just another pattern.  Me trying to change, to mold myself to some idea to match someone's ideal person even as it becomes clear that no matter what I do, no matter how much I change, no matter how patient I am, how much I compromise, how much I settle for, that I will never be that person's ideal.   Which is really the same pattern that I, at last, recognized and broke free from with my soon-to-be-ex husband.

I have to let go.  Don't I?  To move on, I have to let go.  What will be will be, right?  Que sera sera and all that horseshit.

Fuck-a-doodle-do.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXQTWCTc0aI (Que sera sera)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDEEzS7OV2k&feature=related (Goodbye, my almost Lover)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zwtr19HHB4U (Falling for you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUhc8D7pQlQ&feature=related (Corner of my heart)