I'm not sure of what, but I am fairly confident that somewhere it's someone's anniversary of something. And I am drinking to them. An iced latte with Sweet 'n Low. The first half was great. The second half is just kind of cold and watery. But that's my fault for nursing it instead of guzzling it.
As for me, it's been almost four months since the demise of my relationship.
I'm finally ready to admit that it was a difficult breakup. Pure torture, actually. I couldn't eat or sleep for at least twenty minutes.
During that dark period, I questioned my self-worth. I doubted who I was as a person. I wondered if I was losing my magnetism. Then I wondered if I had ever really been an appealing person at all. Soon I began to distrust the effectiveness of my Body by Victoria padded demi bra. Even worse, I felt massive amounts of skepticism regarding my recent decision to grow out my bangs.
Yeah. It was a pretty awful twenty minutes.
Luckily it ended just in time to catch those last juicy moments of The Millionaire.
Just a tip, folks: never break up during Sweeps Week. Those are critical television viewing opportunities you can never get back.
So, anyway, four months later and I finally feel like I'm ready to get back in the saddle.
And that's got nothing to do with horses, if you know what I mean.
So, do you know what I mean?
Just in case you don't, allow me to clarify.
When you break up with a person - someone you truly love - it takes a while before you feel like you'll ever experience that depth of connection and complete emotional satisfaction again.
I'm sorry, what were we talking about?
Oh right. Depth of connection.
Yeah. I didn't think I'd ever have it with anyone else ever again. Blah blah blah.
But, being the proactive, risk-taking, positive, hopeful person I am, I decided to test the waters.
The weekend after our midweek breakup, I started dating someone else. I could have started sooner had we not just been dumped with twenty inches of snow.
And no! It wasn't a stranger!! Jeez! I'm not that desperate...
Actually, I dated someone I'd been considering in case of emergency. You know, like just in case you misplace your soulmate and you have an extra ticket to Wolftrap?
Anyway, the dating was great. We connected in so many ways. And we drank a pretty good amount. It was quite depth-like.
And I'm not talking about sex.
Even if we had engaged in sexual relations - which I am neither prepared to admit nor deny - only Madeline would know anyway.
And Erika.
And Christina.
And my mom, of course. My sister-in-laws (who, I'm sure, tell my brothers everything even though they say they don't). And my cousin J.
Oh yeah. I'd have to tell the folks at work too. They live vicariously through me so there's an unwritten rule that I'll divulge any and all excitement in my life.
But I am not about to discuss whether or not I had sex with my safety net. It's way too personal.
Besides, whether or not I had sex with Mr. Just In Case has nothing to do with getting back into the saddle.
I have no issue with sex. If it weren't for diseases, pregnancy and my running schedule, I'd probably have sex with a bunch of folks I know. Really nice folks.
No, it's not sex I need to work my way back into.
And it's not intimacy either. Intimacy? No big deal. One glass of wine and I'm all about relating.
No. Getting back into the saddle means that I'm ready to consider going to the movies again. With a guy. A new guy.
Now whoever thinks sex and intimacy are the major issues in relationships is just wrong.
The key to a relationship is the movies. And finding a movie partner with whom you click on an indie level is just plain difficult.
Will he get the movie? Would he have chosen this movie if I hadn't suggested it? Does he laugh so loud during the movie you miss lines of dialogue? Can he sit through a movie without going to the bathroom or blowing his nose or sucking the straw in his drink so hard that people look at us?
I'm not saying that these are my specific criteria, but they are certainly considerations.
My ex and I went through a lot together. We made it through illness, car problems, family headaches, career transitions, travel to terrorist hotspots, hair color changes and that really fun week when Boo wouldn't pee in his box. Damn. We shared a history.
Right now, I have no recollection of any of that.
But the movie history? It's rich. Seriously rich. We shared film noir, independent releases and foreign films. We also watched movies filled with special effects, lots of guns, flatulence jokes and oh-so-many oh-so-cliche l-u-u-u-v moments interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. (Don't movie audiences get tired of ringus interruptus? It's so obvious.) And, of course, we turned off our share of movies.
And now I'm alone.
And tons of good movies are playing now.
And I'm alone.
Sure there are guys to eat dinner with, drink coffee with, go kayaking with and fool around with. There are even guys to possibly fall in love with.
Those are easy.
But it's been four months and I know in my cold hard heart that it's time to move forward and go to that place of vulnerability and fear...
So, if you need me, I'll be conducting interviews at the Cineplex Odeon.
And if you know anyone who might qualify for this position, just find out two things:
[1] Are they ethically opposed to bringing in a private candy stash from CVS, and [2] Will they keep holding the popcorn bucket for me even after they've had enough?