It’s been three years. Three years since I divorced my ex-husband. Guess how many relationships I’ve had since?? Oh, that’s right,.. None. Not a single one. Now, there are two ways to look at this. One, is that I am picky. I weed out the majority of loser candidates early on and save myself a bunch of heartache later. Two, is that I have some sort of deficiency or deformity ( I always thought that extra pinky finger was kinda sexy, myself, and damn useful when typing. But, eeh, to each their own), some abnormality that prevents good candidates from coming my way in the first place. On my good days I truly believe in number one. On my bad days I’m convinced of theory two. And when I get a little tipsy I sit and make up three and four. But, all in all the “why’s” don’t matter. Because it doesn’t change what is. And what is, is that I remain single, for whatever reason, while my ex-husband has been with his new wife for three years now. Yay.
I don’t have anything better than I did when I was married, I have yet to publish the book I started when I was married, and at the moment I can’t even say I am happier now, due to some jack-ass that I let room with me. The douche-bag actually urinated on my couch. And yet, there is nothing I can do about it because he lives with me. That’s right, listen up, if you live with someone you can harass, torture, pee on, and take whatever you want. The legal system is awesome. Yeah, guess there was one loser candidate that slipped through, huh. Ooops.
So even while I race about and chase my tail for money, my life is slowly slipping by me. Goals unmet. The idea was that I would “move-on” with my life. Start something new. But, as it turns out, I’m “moving-on” like a damn turtle inside a marijuana maze.
But, maybe it’s not the pace I should be concerned about. Maybe it’s the route. Kinda like that fly that keeps zipping around the interior of your car and buzzing into the closed driver’s side window. He can see the outside world and eventually he starts walking on the glass when he lands on it. Thinking he is going to get somewhere. When from our perspective, we can see the rear window is open, and wonder why he doesn’t just go out of it. He’s just so focused on the route ahead of him, he can’t see the alternative. I can’t see my alternative, either. But, I will be keeping my eyes peeled from now on.