I haven''t written for a while. For over one week, I stepped outside of my routine. I did not check email, I did not speak with any men. (OK. No men called me. )

I am in a holding pattern. All the major survival-mode issues of the last 15 years seem to be behind me. I am free to fill that space once occupied by worry and survival with joy and pride.

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But as it turns out, I do less filling, and more keeping out.... I spend a great deal of time playing bouncer in the club that is my life. Outside my door, waiting for the party to start, is a long line of smooth talkers, promise makers and dream weavers. They are the life of the party. The ones that make me feel special as long as the booze is flowing and the music is loud.


But sooner than later, they realize they are missing too many parties.

So I put a bigger bouncer at the door to keep their kind away. Unfortunately, he scares away the kinder, gentler would-be guests. I thought that if I emptied my space of dead weight and cobwebs, the goodness would find its way of its own accord.

But alas, the cosmos has its own rhythm... Is my knight in shining armor around the corner? Is my ship just off shore?

I feel like a walking cliche. Are all the good ones really married or gay? Or am I embodying the Groucho Marx remark of not wanting to join a club that would have me as a member?

The long and the short of it is that I am "alone" by choice. I am waiting for THE one... the one that will take my breath away.



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