It’s like they expect Samantha from Sex in the City but I’m far from it. If a guy tells me he’s married and just wants to be friends, I believe him. I don’t look to seduce him and don’t assume he is trying to seduce me. But tell this to most people and they’ll shake their heads and tell me “tsk, tsk,” as if I am in the wrong for not reading between the lines.
I think I’ve been haunted by When Harry Met Sally. It’s not the scary early 1990s fashion that has bothered me over the years, nor has it been the the famous orgasm scene. What has been underneath my skin since seeing that movie was the theory put forth by Billy Crystal stating that men and women couldn’t just be friends, because the sex thing was always there. I really didn’t want to believe that. But then wondered if it was true. And I still find myself questioning.
I finally started to doze off when I heard the owl. I woke back up not with a startle, but with a happiness for having heard it. I listened to it for the next ten minutes or so. Thoughts bounced back and forth- from the owl to what had transpired that day with my bosses. That symbol of wisdom was right outside my bedroom somewhere, seeing in the dark, looking down on everything around it. It was confirmation that I was on the right path, even though I have no idea what path that is.
I feel like the side of velcro that just picks up negative particles of cruelty and they are really hard to pull off.
I was so ready to build a future, to move on and away from trauma, to be free and to be a grown-up that I allowed myself to ignore all kinds of warnings, and to consciously convince myself that this person would bring stability to my life. I threw all my eggs into that unstable basket.