It's almost like it's not even up to me

Writers block…ever had it? I do!

For days now I have been searching deep inside for something, funny, enlightening, unusual, rich and honest to talk about. What the heck? I can’t seem to come up with anything. I feel like I’ve written about everything, what more do I have to say that people want to hear?

I could write about the date that led to nowhere…literally, nowhere. We got lost on a dead end street. I thought (hoped) he was going to take advantage of me, but much to my dismay it wasn’t a ploy, we really were lost. But that’s a story for another time.

Or I could write about my love of celebrity gossip and how I can’t seem to get enough, but too much Speidi talk could turn anyone away fast.

I could write about how much I hate to see awesome women put up with S*%$# they don’t deserve from douche bag guys, Sandra Bullock anyone?

Or I could even break down my top 10 list of things that I think Tiger Woods could learn from Phil Mickelson, but I really want to save that for a Top Ten Friday post.

I just can’t decide!

I guess in true He Who Laughs Last fashion, I will have to revert back to my “safety topic”…LOVE.

After all these years, and 190+ blog posts later I have come to the conclusion that love might just be the craziest, funnest, scariest, most awkward part of life. We all learn about love and loss at an early age. For most of us, it’s probably when our pet fish dies and our family hovers around the toilet bowl to talk about our favorite memories of the fish before we ever so tearfully flush him down the toilet with the best intentions of sending him to the nearest retention pond to be revived by other fish that love him. (dang that was the longest run-on sentence I have ever NOT edited)

But still your heart breaks. You try to mend it with some ice cream and a sucker. And you may even begin to think that your heart may never heal. You realize in the innocence of youth that love gets under your skin and does unspeakable things to you. But after a few weeks something stirs in you and you suddenly can’t wait to go buy another fish.

Last night I started the daunting task of cleaning out my ginormous closet. I hate this process but because I am so lazy I find that I have to do it a couple of times a year. One day I may wake up and realize that if I would just put the clothes away correctly each time, I might not have to clean out my closet so much…but I digress, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Anywho…while I was cleaning it out I came across a box that had yet to be unpacked from my move, almost five years ago. I had absolutely no idea what was inside. As I opened the box I saw the ring box that was once handed to me on bended knee asking for my hand in marriage. My first thought was how awesome it would be to open the box and find the ring inside it. But then I remembered that I donated it to charity last year. My next thought was how I smiled when I said “yes”. You see, it was completely unexpected. I had dated my ex-husband for 7 years before he proposed. I had almost become comfortable with the fact that we would never get married. Then for a moment I let myself get sad over how deeply my heart broke when my marriage ended…but only for a moment!

I hate the fact that love can be lost, but I love the fact that love can stop time forever even more.

The cynical part of me wants to jump ahead 15 years from that moment in time and hit myself over the head. Bring me back to reality. A reality of the 50% club. You know the club…it’s either the 50% of all marriages succeed club or the 50% of all marriages fail club. I happen to be in the failure club and am reminded daily of the vicious cycle of relationships. The cycle that I am scared to death of ever getting involved in again.

You know the one I am talking about:

1. Boy meets girl

2. Sparks fly

3. Picture 2.5 kids and a white picket fence

4. Honeymoon phase of a new relationship

5. Comfort zone and discussions about the future start

6. Engagement

7. Marriage

8. 2.5 kids, 1 dog, 1 cat, a hamster and a fish

9. The fighting begins

10. The sex slows down and eventually stops

11. Questions arise

12. You begin to rethink the whole marriage thing

13. Divorce

Wow! That’s something to look forward to again, right? I try to stay optimistic in the face of society telling me that if I get married for a 2nd time, the chances of it surviving are about 35% and that the seven year itch is more like the five year itch. I try to keep my head above water…but sometimes just want to stop treading.

So from the dead fish, to my first love, to my ex-husband, to all the men I have ever had a moment with all I have to say is that love is a crazy thing.

Here’s hoping to the love I find in the future, that it may never be lost.