There she stood, beautiful and petite--flowing dark hair and glistening red lips. The girl of my dreams and she'd been out of my reality for so long. My heart beat fire. How long had it been? Years? Months? Eons? Did dinosaurs roam the earth when we first met, or had that just been a dark fantasy? She looked incredible.
"You look incredible."
"Thank you."
She smiled and blushed. Her dress billowed in the wind like a flag or sail. I couldn't pick which one; my brain slogged grey Play-Doh. What was my name? It didn't matter. So long as those eyes stared into me, I'd be whoever she wanted.
I said Play-Doh? Maybe I'm Gumby? Damnit...
Green slab of clay or not, I'm chained to her smile. Cheesy poems clamor off my skull. All of them shouting, screaming, imagery of the masters. Their words, not mine, and their vocabulary couldn't describe how she made me feel. How I felt. I felt...
"Hi."
"Hi," She giggled
I knew I would marry her. I knew it was our double-helix destiny to wrap around each other into infinity. Was it her beauty? I didn't know. Maybe it was how she ran up and kissed my cheek then ran away. Did it mater? I never question fate.
"Ewww!" I dropped down and hurled a handful of sand. It exploded against her shadow. She'd grown up so much since first grade, and now fate drew us together for second.
Double-Helix intertwined...
I rose and chased her into the sunset.
So it began. I never married her, of course. We couldn't convince our parents of our destiny by spring break, and after spring break she found the Derrick gene. Derrick had more bling per strand. Romance is survival of the fittest, and for a second grader Derrick was fit. I was cousin Oliver from the Brady Bunch stumbling into a pit of tar.
My first crush became the first link in the chain of the many "the ones" that got away. A broken strand in my DNA.
Since then the chain has grown, and I'm beginning to see a pattern. Rob meets girl, Rob loses girl, Rob meets girl, Rob loses girl…
I need to break the chain. I need to do it after the first half cycle. I thought I had, but that turned out to be more like getting my pant's leg caught in the chain, and not breaking it.
It sucked, but it's not a genetic problem. I have a choice. I can wear other pants, or I could choose not to. I could choose to slather myself in self pity gravy, or I can just show people the naked turkey that I am. I know, and what a Thanksgiving image that is, huh?
"Mommy, what's the naked man doing on the table?"
"It's just that Rob, blogger guy. Ignore him, he'll go away. Grandma, put down the fork!"
I'm thankful. See, I enjoyed ten years with MyUnwife. Now those years as much a part of me as my hazel eyes and hairy butt. But, MyUnwife misadventure isn't a dominant trait. It's dormant. It's history. Sure, I probably have a few hit and miss relationships left in my jeans, but I don't have to marry everybody. If I've learned anything, I've learned I need to get to know my partner.
I need to separate the keepers from the ones who'll kiss my cheek and run away. That's the chain I need to break. The ability to learn from mistakes is also a part of my DNA. It's time I started using it.
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