Monday, October 27, 2008

A Gallery of Broken Hearts

I think that I'm getting better at existing.

There are great things to be happy about.

For example-- I love kicking through crunchy leaves. I'm driving a super sweet Chrysler 300 C. My life feels slightly aristocratic, mostly due to occasional luxuries like an afternoon of fun (think "The Duchess" [by the way, what is it about TRUE aristocrats that they can't be faithful... I mean, at least not in the movies?], sales at Anthropologie and Dillards, a couple of hours browsing at Borders, buying organic produce at Sunflower Market, etc.). I walk through my life with Ingrid Michaelson for a soundtrack (who Hilary Z. knew about ages ago, thank you very much!) and the cutest little girl imaginable for my niece (and possibly the sole beneficiary in my will someday as it seems I'm cabbaging onto her because a) she's impossibly wonderful and b) I'm currently barren [wait-- can you be a barren virgin?]). Speaking of Zoey-kins, here is a picture of us:



She's definitely worth amassing a small fortune for someday. That is, so long as she continues to love her old spinster aunt the best.

Of course, it's not all that easy. I still have a hard time getting out of my cozy bed in the mornings... though it's worse getting in bed in the first place. So long as I keep myself 100 percent engaged in stuff then I can handle my days. I've moved into an even more productive lifestyle. I'm a little nervous at the moment because I only have a few more things on today's to-do list. I've got to be busy for at least another seven hours before bedtime. I think I've got to pick up crocheting hats for blind Polish orphans again. I could always just read, you say. But reading isn't as comforting as you'd think. I started re-reading "New Moon" (again, Hil, that's a shout-out to you... I decided to reread all the "Twilight" books before the movie comes out because you're reading them) but it bothers me this time. When Bella is catatonic progressing to reckless in Edward's absence, I feel justified and less alone, but knowing how the book ends, I'm afraid it'll give me false hope for my own real-life story. Even the true-life people I know who have weathered heartache (who are basically everyone I know) give me a dangerous sense of hope for eventual love and reconciliation, but I worry that such hope will prevent me from doing that whole "letting go" thing. It's kind of a mess.

Moving on is messy too. I've got a sweet male fan club with members jockeying fruitlessly for my attention, but I just can't really give most of them the time of day. I try to, out of duty and appreciation. But my heart is full and it moved to Las Cruces.

1 Comments:

At October 27, 2008 at 6:50 PM , Blogger Hilary said...

haha thanks for the shout out...tis true, I knew her "when"...glad to hear you are turning a corner :) My mom always said, "men are like buses...another one will be along in 10 minutes"....I guess its up to us to decide to get on when it arrives. I know I would be too busy worrying about the bus that just left to even notice that there were several others who had arrived...Oh, sheesh...now I have confused myself:) Happy riding.

 

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