I’ve been feeling the need for a few weeks to exorcise some inner demons. Writing is cathartic for me (I just can’t say that often enough can I?). I have feared that I may offend someone, or that somehow by unleashing what’s inside me there will be repercussions I won’t enjoy. Well, FTS. On my busiest blog day ever—4th of July, I think—I had 20-something readers. So, what I deduce is that if I express myself on my own page only 20-30 people will ever look at it? And of those 20, maybe 2 will be offended? I give myself permission to be me.

I’ll just start by saying love feels like a demon to me. Now, rationally I understand it’s a lack of love that is the demon, never love. But then sometimes the mind and the heart are not in sync. It isn’t easy (and creepy) like iPhone and Facebook people. I can tell you honestly that twice in my life I’ve had an experience that felt like real love (like the Beatles song) and lasted a few years. I can also attest that it ended horribly both times. Now, I sit here and wonder if I am so screwed up that I’ve never known love? Love doesn’t always last. In both situations I speak of, people evolved and we became so separate that life together didn’t make sense. It didn’t make happiness either.

Yet, I’m always chasing a spark that I long to feel once again. And Lord Jesus whyyyyyyyy? Why do I chase it so? I can’t answer that. I’m an odd mixture of someone who is fiercely independent and yet loves to be around others. I like that I can do whatever I want to do at my house. No one is here so I can run around naked, rearrange the furniture, watch depressing old black and white movies, whatever! I do none of that, FYI. Seriously though, I do like that I have my own space and my hundreds of unfinished projects aren’t in anyone’s way or annoying someone. And then, there’s that tug. I wish that someone was here to help me finish a couple. Someone to tell me to get the collages done so the carpet can be vacuumed. Maybe a pair of helping hands to get my bicycle together and laugh as I learn to ride again. And a more serious housekeeper wouldn’t hurt any feeling I possibly have.

I digress. Back to this endless spark chase. Maybe it’s my biological clock. It was ticking, now it’s like an alarm going off. It certainly isn’t because I see a slew of other people loving their relationships. Actually, there’s a few relationships I admire (probably because I don’t live them) but for the most part I sit back and think, “Yeah you have fun with that.” Perhaps I’m an attention whore? But I really like to give attention more than get it. I’m a great assistant on every level. And seeing as how I make large decisions that impact our business and other people all day, every day without much time to think it over, I really don’t want to be the major decision maker. In fact, I often wonder if I could be ‘the man’ in the relationship? I mean, can I be the breadwinner who goes to the office and stresses over work and have a man who is cleaning the house but is still an alpha male and runs the show? Is that having and eating one’s own cake? And that’s a bit of an exaggerated idea of what I’d like FYI for anyone reading this who somehow ended up remaining on my friends list and has no idea how snarkey I can be.

That last paragraph only leads me further down the darkened tunnel I call a soul. I’m an oxymoron inside myself. I’m not proclaiming to be the best one to teach a seminar on balance in one’s life but I never considered myself unbalanced (for long periods of time)(and that’s what matters). I like to think I can spot problems areas or excessiveness and buff it right out. And maybe I can, except when it comes to mating. OR, maybe there are so few balanced people that it’s really hard finding another one like me! Like how there are Jack in the Box’s all over TX but you can’t eat Jack in the Box here! It’s not to be found. Geez, nothing is coming of this blog except more questions and unveiling my true crazy nature (and undying love of Jack in the Box tacos).

Maybe I put it best in a message to a friend: “It just sucks getting old and being retarded at the same damn thing after all these years.” And, now that it’s off my chest, I do feel better. I never clearly identified my demons. Or, maybe they’re dancing all around me like the Grateful Dead bears and I just don’t see them because we’ve been doing this same number for so long. Or, most likely, this is the same kind of feelings that swoosh over people when things don’t work out and I just need a minute to pick myself up, dust off, and give myself a soul hug and thank God for the friendship and gifts brought to me by everyone who enters my path. <—– OK, there it is, there I am!! I knew I was in there. Whew, I was thinking this was going to be a blog where I left more stumped than when I entered it. Who knows what will happen tomorrow. And tonight, I WILL be grateful for the times like this and for having garnered a best friend out of it all. Goodnight, Jerry. Love, Elaine.