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28 May 2014

10 minutes about lost love


I loved someone once. 

She made me dinner.

This is not that. And the problem of that relationship was mine, so I folded it into my heart and hoped it would take a heart like shape. I wouldn't know until two years later that only hearts take heart like shape. Pain and disease take the shape of pain and disease, no mater how many times you fold them.

Sitting at this wedding for my. "dinner maker," for the one that got away makes me stronger than I've ever been before. It's the wrong kind of strength, but it will get me through any number of board meetings, networking events and other presentations. 

Thinking this way about lost love, it's the part of me that I think is crazy. Not quite connected to the rest of the world.

I see a future where the VP of sales says, "Brock, where's your plus one? Where's that little filly of yours?" Never mind he call women fillies, as in chattel. But I see myself smiling and saying, "Dreck... I mean Dick. She got away. She needed a better man than me." I see it all in my minds eye because I've already been to the meeting, or meetings like it. I'll get a slap on the back, a quick mentor moment and depending on the venue, I'll get some really good Scotch. 

They will yearn to be single like me, while dreading their own relationship. In being vulnerable they'll come to treat me as one their, the next plum assignment is mine. All it cost me was the molar-griding death of a my relationship.  Pain and disease take the shape of pain and disease, no mater how many times you fold them.

They make a good couple. Maybe they have many dinners and fold only heart shapes, into each others hearts.

Drink any one?

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