Dusting Off My Brutes

Noticed this afternoon that my room was a little on the dusty side. Pulled everything off the shelves before leaving for rehearsal.

I returned home to my floor, as I left it, littered with coated-grey objects. I was just about to tackle the issue when an ex decided to make an appearance.

We'd ended on bad terms. Remember? He's the one I publicly humiliated at a party by pouring lemonade on his cheating skull.

As you may recall, this is the umpteenth time a major cleaning, corporeal or otherwise, has summoned unfinished emotional business before me. Indeed, the lemonade incident itself remains a shining example of this very phenomenon.

Years later he didn't want to explain, really, or even entertain explanation. He merely wanted to convince me that, though we made a "dangerous pair," I just might want to flirt with that danger yet again.

Ahhh, so he wasn't married with 3 kids! That's how I envision the whole lot of my former interests: snatched up by better women than I and now, miraculously, fully invested in completely enviable lives of which I dare not learn a single detail lest I become ill over what could have been.

And why wasn't he living the perfect life I pictured for him? Perhaps because he isn't a good kisser or because he is wildly insensitive or because he is always an enigma or because, ultimately, he could care less about this litany of complaints I am now cutting short out of consideration for you, kind reader.

He tried and tried, but time healed AND educated. I met a boy better suited for me, and THAT didn't even work. Here he was presenting me with a lesser option. Absolutely no temptation. Sooo easy to brush off.

There are reasons we aren't together, reasons we aren't with our formers, reasons that aren't always evident because we're not quite ready to see in the midst of the collapse--reasons that later become cause for celebration.

Thank goodness I am not with this man! Thank goodness I am not with any of them!!!

Oh, yes. Sing it with me, and take this scientific morsel with you: next time you think you miss someone or you're simply wondering where he is, you have only to pick up a broom or grab a glass of green juice. Fixing those little kinks is only one sweep, one sip away.