Let’s see. Tuesday morning, as I was headed home from work, a radio station asked for people to call in and tell them what “Love is….”
Of course, they all said they didn’t want to hear that “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” I agreed with that sentiment whole-heartedly. Love means knowing WHEN to say you’re sorry.
But, that’s not what I told them. I told them that love is being able to sit comfortably and quietly in the same location and not feel the silence is an indication that there’s anything wrong. I also told them that love is something that adds to your life … it is NOT your life.
So, for my phoning efforts (hell, it wasn’t much of an effort … I was sitting in traffic on my way home from work — in the pouring rain), I was rewarded with a “Sweet Home Alabama” DVD. Okay. That’s nice. But, I don’t have a DVD player.
Anyhow, that’s the way my luck generally goes.
I get a nice prize, but, it doesn’t fit in with my lifestyle. Or something like that.
For instance, I finally meet someone. I mean … MEET SOMEONE. And, it’s all so good. He just lives elsewhere. Not that we’ll let that stand in our way. We’ll cope with that.
What really takes the cake is that for once in my life I have found someone who gets me. The real me. All of me. I don’t have to feel bad about a single thing that reflects who I am. I’m accepted as is.
And, he lives elsewhere. Figures.
So, as a I wander on over to another blog (Joni’s been far too patient and understanding here), know that I cared enough to cave in to the emails and the prodding. You have your story. Are you happy?