Thursday, February 28, 2013

A True Love Letter

Dear Prince Charming True Love Soul Mate guy:

I was waiting for you. I waited and waited and waited. Then my biological clock started ticking and I really was sick of being in a position where I might catch an STD just because I needed something to cuddle up to that night. I needed to settle down and do the family making thing. You were no where to be found outside of my dreams.

So, I married some guy. He was the best possible option made available to me in the history of my options. Deep down inside, he's a good guy. His parents are fucking crazy and I now have the worst possible scenario for in-laws, and his culture raised him to expect 1950's gender roles bull shit, but he lets me blog and blow copious amounts of money on Diet Coke. The best part is, we reproduced. We now have little spawns who never would have existed had I not settled for Adele's "Someone Like You."

So here I am trying to enjoy my "This will do" ever after, but I can't. Nope. Destiny. Soul Mates. Blah blah blah. I keep diving down that hole chasing a white rabbit with a clock bitching about being late. The problem is, that world may or may not exist. That world might be my own insanity. That world, things don't make sense. Meanwhile, I'm sleeping through this world who will never measure up to Wonderland.

I am having dreams about you, all the time. I can't forget you. My sleep won't let me. Then I wake up and try to make sense of things like most people do. Between God, astrological charts, dream interpretation, The Magic 8 Ball, and so forth, everything tells me to have faith, leaving me wishing and hoping you will come swoop me off my feet out of this life I settled for and give me the life I dreamed of, the one we were "destined" for... I've decided to drop the faith.

I decided that you are nothing more than an illusion fabricated by my insanity and needs and wants and desires and Freudian stuff. You don't exist. You never have. Real romance is not Disney's Cinderella. It's Voltaire's Candide. It's a story about a young optimistic person who endures reality. Life broke his dreams. He didn't get to enjoy his true love until after she was old, ugly, and scarred from her life, and by then, there was nothing left to enjoy. All they could do is find peace in boring life things and the company.

That's where I'm at. I'm not with that true love dream I had. I'm with this husband guy instead. Life did a number to him much like it did with me, and we are at the part of the fairy tale where we just learn to be content with mundane tasks like the dishes.

Just because I am rejecting True Love Faith and have decided you are an illusion, that doesn't mean I'm totally rejecting you. If you really are out there, when you decide to grace my life with your presence, I'm all about happily ever after. I'll be your down ass bitch then. But until then, I have to exchange some of the intangibles for the tangible.

No matter the Destiny, free will is a bitch, and we both married the bitch. May God protect you and may you live, laugh and love and all that jive. Peace out I'm doing laundry.


Alice Not In Wonderland