Old Flames, Facebook & Friday Night Frivolities

What a combination that makes! Back in the day, I would’ve added a bottle of something or another to the mix and that would be the match to light the fuse to blow the hell out of the house that Jack built. But this evening’s activities are being carried out without the extra little something that alcohol always provided; usually the extra little push that led to me going over the edge, or out just outside the realm of control or some other measure of “past the acceptable bounds of behavior/speech/appearance” or just plain bat-shit crazy.

You see, impulse control is no friend of mine; I have the illusion of it most of the time and I can think thoughts without speaking them out loud, carry out bloody executions to all manner of electronic device and/or programs in my mind but resist the urge to physically carry out the decapitation of said computer monitor…except when I’ve been drinking or I’m in a certain mindset that makes impulse control an add-on item that I was too cheap to purchase and now regret tremendously.

Back in the old days, it would always manifest with men; I see, I like, I want, I pursue. Now, that sounds simple enough, but that was rarely the word to use for those interactions. Oftentimes, said man was usually an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would zoom in on him, like a heat-seeking missile locked on an over-fueled backyard barbecue, all intense with no filter, no respect for personal space or social niceties, firing questions like I’m Perry Mason and I’m ON TO YOU, MISTER!!! 

Other times, the attention would be most welcome, but I would bore quickly, as the impulse had passed and I would move on, leaving an extremely befuddled man in desperate need of another drink, wondering what on earth just happened.

Then there was the time I met the one person who I felt like I had met many, many times even though it was the first time we’d laid eyes on each other. This was no impulse control issue; this was something completely and totally unfamiliar, much like finding a pristine port-o-potty on the last day of Coachella. This was a recognition, a reunion, a return of an old friend, a love from long ago. It was in the eyes; the eyes told me everything I didn’t know and my heart filled in the rest. Needless to say, it was glorious until it was heartbreaking, devastating and the saddest ending to the happiest time of my life. He went his way and I went all over the place, mentally and physically.

I think I never really got over him because I never really got closure; which I now think is akin to trying to regain your virginity or taking back words once they’ve been given voice. There might be a slim possibility but not much of a probability. Still, that doesn’t stop me from occasionally wondering how he’s doing, what he’s up to and mostly that he’s still alive and well. This is where Facebook, my lack of impulse control and too much time on a Friday night come together to create the perfect storm, where I try to exorcise his memory and instead end up knee-deep in more memories than I even knew I had of him. All it took was seeing those eyes again and BAM! I’m back there, with him, giddy and feeling like I’m one bounce from simply flying away, my heart like a hot air balloon, rising higher and higher with the love powering it into the clouds. The memories aren’t like watching a movie, more like being back there again, transported back in time, down to the sand in my toes and the humidity slowly soaking my skin.

ZAP! POW! It’s not a Batman and the Joker battling it out, it’s my back screaming at me for being stooped over my MacBook too long, shooting pains from my neck alert me to the need to move, as well as the fact that my legs have fallen asleep. I feel disoriented for a moment, as if I’ve been away for a long time and need to reacquaint myself with my surroundings before they begin to seem familiar again.

Well, my dear, we aren’t 20-something anymore and even if he was your Prince Charming, Love from Past Lives or your Soul Mate Reincarnated; now he’s just a guy and you’re just a gal and Facebook is just a fantasy world where we all put on masks, photoshop our lives, hopefully share some love and support, but it’s just a place to visit. We don’t want to live there and if you’re going to find your heart’s happiness, it’s not going to happen by indulging in daydreams and replaying old memories that are so faded and worn they are close to disappearing altogether. Maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen; things fade away, people go far away and sometimes without a good-bye. Some will always come back to you, no matter how far apart you go, how much time in between. Some you’ve yet to meet, yet to see and someday, maybe one day, in someone’s arms, you’ll find your home.

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