Hair dyed the same red I used when I was 18. Same hair cut too, almost. Is this my do-over? Do I get to go back to that girl with all the wisdom I have now? Except the wisdom isn’t very profound. Isn’t really there at all in fact. So much I could tell her, but would it matter? No. She has to learn it for herself. Just like I did. Just like I’m still doing. But not very well, it seems. The same mistakes. The same lessons. Over and over and over. And it’s making me tired.
And so I research corset patterns.
Or maybe I just need a breastplate to protect my heart. A breastplate and a sword and some sort of micro chipped radar that allows me to detect potential heartbreakers. But everyone is a potential heartbreaker. I guess I’d just like to avoid the ones who feel the need to ignore me. The chicken shits who slink silently out of my life in the hopes that I won’t notice they’ve disappeared. But I notice. I notice.
And every single time it confuses me.
How did I let this happen? (Again.) And why do I keep attracting the ones who are so self involved that they would never be able to care for me even if they thought they wanted to. (Which they never seem to do.) Why am I dazzled by creativity and wit? Why does the smallest hint of their attraction to me break my resolve to play it cool? Why do I give too much too soon? Why can’t the nice ones keep my interest? Why am I never enough, just the way I am?
Why? Why? Why?
Because I AM enough, just the way I am. They just can’t see it. And if they can, it somehow scares the crap out of them. Which is another mystery to me. The idea that I am terrifying in any way makes me giggle and roll my eyes.
What is so scary about me?
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