Redirecting Anger

A while back I contacted a boy from the past and the response wasn’t quite what I was expecting. As it turns out though, all the right things he said in his response were just, well, words on my screen. He was dodging bullets, not stopping long enough to quantify his prose.  I’m still pissed off about it. Mostly at myself for letting it bug me so much and falling prey once again to someone who doesn’t seem to have the capacity to measure up. It would be nice if I were wrong about this. Time is the greatest tattle-tale. 

Just to punish myself further I left the door open for my nemesis to saunter back in briefly. I’m always so cool you know, taking life as it comes, not thinking of tomorrow so much, just enjoying the moment. But, as it always happens, what I truly want sits beside me, patiently tapping me on the shoulder. “Lock the door, seek further,” it coos. “You’ll find the right person to share this marvelous life with you.”

These are the best years of my life. My mother is alive, my children are young and I’m healthy with a bright future and lots to look forward to. Somewhere in my subconscious I’m listening to an old worn out record that would serve me much better as remolded vinyl. I do deserve the best. I offer it and expect it in return. Most importantly, I am ready to accept no less.