Have you ever woken up and noticed something isn't right? That was me this morning: semi-conscious and drool crusted with an id-carrot dangling just past my frontal-lobe. Rolling over, I thanked my sleep-Freud, and returning my wooly dreams.
"Tell me about your childhood."
GAAAAH!
Ok. I'm awake now. No, my childhood wasn't bad, at least not compared to anything I've experienced as a kid anyway. I just don't like where this is going. It's an oily Slip n' Slide slaloming through my Slinky-cuffed past. It's all Chutes and ladders baby. Still, this isn't the source of my unnatural feeling. What is the source?
Uncomfortable and unanswered, I got up, and start my coffee. I'm up 15 minutes, and I'm done with all my Valentine's shopping this year. Well, how long does it take to turn on a computer and hit PetSmart.com?
"A stuffed thing? Cosmo loves stuffed things!"
No, he doesn't. He's quite terrified of them really. It's the weirdest thing I've ever seen. A friend of mine bought him a stuffed tiger chew toy. It was a terrifying tiger in a Calvin and Hobbes kind of way. Yeah, oo-oo "rawr," ah, pretty scary. My dog thought so. Not only wouldn’t he touch it, he wouldn't come near me when I touched it. Maybe it's an ancient stuffed-critter curse talisman I'm not aware of. It would explain this nagging feeling…
So no. No stuffed toys for Cosmo. He likes food. I give him treats, he practically humps my leg. A dog after my own heart. He is my sole Valentine's Day shopping soulmate. The alpha and omega of this holiday tour.
"To our left you see the happy dog. Wave. 'Nice doggy.' Careful, keep your hands and heads in the car at all times. Don't approach him. He really is more afraid of you than you are of him. Thank you, this concludes our St. Valentine's tour. Please stop by the gift shop on your way out."
It's cool, he and I have an understanding. There's male bonding, even man-boy/boy-dog cuddling, but nothing too extreme. We're ok to express our feelings, but our feelings stop at "Hey pup! What a good boy!" That's our heavy petting. No confusion.
I have to admit, I do miss other levels of affection since MyUnwife left though. At first, Cosmo wouldn't accept treats; he was afraid I'd hump his leg. It was ruff. Ok, bad joke, but I'm allowed. I haven't had one this week, and this is the week that things finally collapsed in my marriage.
Something isn't right…
Now a year later I'm still romantically unattached. It's been a long year. Last September I bounced around the house pretending to have fun. It was my anniversary. I was on vacation. I needed an outlet. I tried to fool myself, and who knows, it might have worked. There's one born every minute and I believe that minute was mine. I've blocked that minute out now though. Well, I've blocked out that whole month really.
Yet, here I am today talking about the past and coming up on the first Valentine's Day of my future—alone. So how do I feel? Not bad really. Two weeks ago, I was sitting down. I do that. Anyway, I was also eating dinner, another one of my favorite hobbies. I'd made some homemade salsa, and grilled a salmon fillet. The day was busy and it was my first "ahhhh…." moment. I'd just plopped down: fish on fork, beer in hand and--Do you know how you get those lonely pangs? The ones that are like a little kid tugging at your sleeve.
"Excuse me, mister? The lady who used to live here, she asked me to bring you this basked of raw emotions." Then he holds out his palm expecting recompense for the wonderful comeuppance array he's dumped in your lap.
Yeah. Like that. I didn't get that. Instead, I got this little girl. She's all dressed up for Easter when she shuffles up in her high gloss black shoes, and touches her finger to my arm. I look over, she blushes and smiles, stepping back. After a few seconds of this exchange, she props up on her tippy-toes, leaning in, hand cupped around her lips. I lower towards her so she can whisper, "Uhmmmm…you know what? You're happy."
Holy Shit! She's right! I am happy!
I'd forgotten what it felt like. It had been dark for too many months. I needed the sun to blind me for it to dawn on me. I am happy! This week is Valentine's Day. Nobody asked me to be her pheromone pincushion, but I'm ok with that. Maybe another year. It's still a nice holiday. What's more, I'm on vacation this week. I'm going to do little more than nothing. Oh, maybe I'll get some things done, but I have no intention on being productive. I've taught Cosmo this cool trick where he pops the top off the beer and brings it to me. Now if I can just teach him that I want the bottle and not the top. Still, It's good, and I'm ok.
I think I've even found the source of my nagging feeling: I'm happy. I don't know how to cope with that.
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