x marks the spot

often times there are things we want but can't afford. that budgeting isn't always financial.

i kept seeing it there. it was small, but important. like a gorgeous italian leather bag, it kept calling and calling till i finally went into the showroom. i looked at it numerous times, and finally got brave enough to hold it for a second. it felt hefty but not cumbersome. the time was not quite right, so i quickly returned it to the shelf. i hurried away, down the block.then it just came out. "my ex". the sky didn't rain scorpions, the rivers didn't run red with blood. the g.c. didn't come galloping in on horseback to proclaim it heresy and sweep me into his arms. so now i own it. it's mine.

the word had held so much weight, was fraught with so much painful finality that for all these months i simply could not utter it. couldn't even write it. my difficulty began at its very base-- he was never "my" anything, i was "his". gradually i've realized none of the dalliances give a damn why, or even if, he's the ex, as long as progress to their conquest isn't impeded. the editor is too constrained by midwestern methodist reticence to dare to ask. most he'll do is gently tease out a tidbit here and there, and i can see the wheels spinning in his huge brain -- trying to reconcile his perception of me with his image of "that". still i know he feels quite intrusive asking anything too specific. just as well. there can be no succinct nor quippy explanation. it was too different than what most consider love or even "right".

i'm still on the fence as to whether i'm richer or poorer with this acquisition. i do know it's a good long-range investment.