Old Flame in My Eyes

I’ve got to make life easier by admitting to one painful fact:

I’m still in love with my last partner, and particularly on Sunday mornings wonder if that will ever change. He’d be pleased.  I've tried for years to rationalize the breakup, and told myself I’m getting better and that finally I can get on with my life.  But it just ain't workin’, so admit to it already and quit wasting time.

I've been trying to fill that gaping hole inside with friends and activities, and mentally take note of other women who are starting over; even Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are tackling the issue. I love those ladies but don’t have TV reception; yet I’ll bet they've got, in addition to humor, angst and responsibilities, nice, warm homes in which to joke; food in the fridge; and enough disposable for a quart of real Ben & Jerry’s ice cream once in awhile.

Imagine starting over when you’re flat broke; ears deaf to rational words; shivering in a shelter.  Or trailer.  I’m sorry, but I had a similar reaction after Gwyneth Paltrow’s paltry spectacle of surviving on SNAP for a week.  I looked at the picture of dried beans and brown rice and found it quite insulting.

Treating a hardship like a fad. I don’t know about anybody else, but I have to ration my food.  That’s ok; at least I don’t look Oprah-ish.

But I digress.  I enjoy listening to Randy Owens (of Alabama) Sunday mornings with vintage CW, and his first song this morning was “Old Flame.”  Boo hoo; I don’t know why I do this to myself week after week.

Then came the line, “…Those old feelings still upset you…” and there was that proverbial slap in the face.  I can write ‘til dawn’s early light about most ex’s with little more than a chuckle or grimace; and even thoughts of Tino don’t tear my heart out, but he's been dead for over 20 years.

But him I can’t shake.  I slip keepsakes among other significant memorabilia throughout my home, while lying to friends, family and in prose that I’m over it.  I feel like an actor who never gets past a role, and doubt I've been fooling anybody.

But tell me, how can I possible top twelve years on Ruff Life? Those reminders include Czar, wasn't he darling?  Another reason to cry, but they both remind me of what I learned: that I CAN do more than I think I can.  If I hadn't learned how to care for Czar from him, I'd never have felt confident adopting BC on my own, and for that at least I'll always be grateful.

That’s why I don’t feel anything is impossible, just a tad out of reach, sometimes simply due to my stature.  I've gleaned knowledge and courage from life-threatening situations in the middle of the ocean; I can certainly grab a ladder and climb on my RV roof to tie off the Cooleroo triangle.  No one’s going to do it for me unless I can pay them, and I can’t do that.  A female neighbor expressed alarm; I told her not to worry, but if she heard a scream to bring a friend to the service.

So in the grand scheme of things, I did alright.