For all of my 0.5 readers, today you shall be either blessed or cursed by the dual entry.
And God said..."Let there be fireworks..."
Single life is complicated. Entirely too complicated than it ought to be. Frustrating as hell. Many people laugh it off that it's a casual way for a female to get a free dinner...if only it was that simple. I'm not so naive to think that men (and even women) do not have expectations with regards to the conclusion of the evening...or preferences to breakfast or coffee the next morning. Remember the days when you could just attend a movie, have a nice make out session at the front door, and leave it at that? Perhaps I watched too many episodes of "Leave It To Beaver"...then again, June and Ward Cleaver never made out. Their children just appeared in mediocre fashion years into the marriage. Maybe I should put on an apron, sacrifice sex, and call it a day. Yeah...right. Aprons are close enough to a 4-letter word in my warped little universe.
I am an advice-seeker 90% of the time...never trusting my own judgment, always afraid of fucking everything up. So now I have advice coming at me from more directions than a compass rose allots. A lot of people seem to think it would do me well to have a fling or just casually date around, make out with 80% of the metropolitan area...sow some wild oats or something. I'd love to be a whore...but, it's not me.
I want...more.
I have a list of regrets, just shy of a mile in length...in the form of haunting memories and elaborate visual images. I remember far more than most people ever do or ever should. I know what it's like to be used...to think it was authentic, only to face the reality that it was a shallow connection. Sometimes I think...if I'd only hesitated just a second longer, would my story be the same? I don't want to half ass my way through love with a string of one night stands or drunken make out sessions. I want a wondrous love story....one that I can get lost in.
I want....fireworks.
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Moving on up...the east side...
...or I suppose in my case, the 'south side.'
I've been toying with this plan of returning to Corpus Christi for a month or so... I feel as though I belong with the people there. I sense an avenue of safety and a degree of absolution with them. And love...endless, hopeful, reciprocating love.
I made the mistake of falling in love with a beautiful church and its youth group and all the smiling faces that indwell it. And now I'm choosing to walk away. I've warred with myself countless hours over whether or not this is the right decision. The only consolation I have lies in the knowledge that in a short while, many of my youth kids will be moving on...growing up, leaving...enduring significant transitions into adulthood. Soon...I will no longer be needed.
No matter the distance that parts us or the ebb and flow of life's circumstances, my Corpus Christi friends and I...always move, grow, and progress together. We never really surpass one another. We need each other. It is a perpetual transitioning...and yet we've managed to remain connected. I know that our love for each other runs deep and the well containing it shall never run dry.
It's difficult for me to commit to the relocation...mostly due to fear (see above). I don't want this move to bite me in the ass. I don't want my family to resent me for choosing such a starkly different path for myself. But then again, it is my life...and I've got one shot to make it incredible. I'm about 80% committed to the idea of leaving this life in pursuit of another. I can't remain complacent out of worry or hollow self-doubt. If I don't take this step...I'll have one more regret to add to my list...and that's not a comfortable option for me.
It's time to move on...time to move forward.
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