When you fall off the wagon, you usually fall pretty damn hard and into a downward spiral of self-destructive behavior with no desire for help or change and absolutely no reason for hope. Your mind becomes resolute with the idea of failure; not just in love, but in life in general.
One thing I definitely value about getting older is my ability to acknowledge and experience negative emotions, feelings and fears without shame, judgment or complete hopelessness. After all, ruts and emotional funks happen. But at forty-four years old I can finally sit in my pain and feel miserable, all the while knowing that it's temporary. Unhappiness and uncertainty don't last forever, unless I let them.
So I made up some lame ass excuse for my total and utter awkwardness. I had to. I was too embarrassed to 'fess up for real. I'd already tipped the scales of comfortable vulnerability. And then to add to my humiliation, Mr. Weird Science called me out with a quick text response saying he hoped the "real reason" for my awkwardness wasn't because of our intimate little conversation that took place after whiskey, after sex and in the dark. Damn him for seeing straight through me!
In a city of eight million people, the possibility of running into him seemed unlikely. And daytime took him completely out of context. But as soon as my brain's facial recognition skills kicked in, I realized I was standing face-to-face with Mr. Weird Science project. My ego retreated. I couldn't even pretend to be normal.
So there I laid; conflicted, naked and smothered in his arms. The rain beating against the window perfected the scene of our formulaic romantic drama. (insert voice-over): "Will Keex honor her true needs and desires or succumb to the temporary pleasures and the needy longings of her heart?"
