These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I wasted too many years with a man who was not good to or for me. He was manipulative and controlling and he could be cruel. I am glad and grateful that I finally found the strength and self-reliance to leave him.
This was decades ago. Ancient history. Over. Done. Page turned. Chapter closed.
Which is why I was shocked by how I reacted when this oldie unexpectedly sailed through my headphones.
"Darling, after all, I will be the one to hold you in my arms ..."
My mind flashed back to a moment -- his head resting against my bare breast, me stroking his hair as he slept. Then another moment -- us slow dancing to this song in the living room, my cheek pressed against his yellow shirt.
I loved him.
I don't like to remember that part. It complicates it. It's like paper clips. When I think of him, I want one emotion -- relief. When I pick up a paper clip, I want one paper clip.
Occasionally the paper clips are magnetized and I reach for one but get two. Occasionally when I think of him I get two emotions -- relief mixed with regret.
But hearing Al Jarreau, it's like I reached for one paper clip and got a whole chain. Regret, relief, joy and love.
It's too many paper clips. It's too much. I don't want this.