The Universe, My New BFF

I’ve given up my faith in a god, but I have this strange faith in the universe’s omnipotence.

I mean, the universe has to have a sense of consciousness, or else there wouldn’t be such artfully-composed ironies in my world.

I break up with my boyfriend, and then . . . awesomeness finds me.

-I lost six pounds. I was up to 138 (this is heavy for me since I’m about as tiny as Tinkerbell), and today when I stepped on the scale I was down to 132! I don’t think I’ll get back to 118 any time soon, but I’m super happy to be closer to the mid-120s.

-I got a freelance gig yesterday! I was sooo excited about it. I can do it on my own time and bring in a nice chunk of extra money (which will help with paying my new lawyer to finally get my divorce finalized and over!).

-I got called for an interview today at the giant state university in Metropolis! Even more excited about that than I am about the freelance gig!

-I am on my way to have drinks with the Clooney-esque Ryan.

Yeah, life is good 🙂 Thanks, Universe.

~~~

I did hear from Nico last night; he sent me a text that simply said “I miss you.” I read it and thought about how Nico-like it was. He always wants me when I’m a touch unattainable. When we were 16 I remember sitting in my boyfriend’s car with Nico (my boyfriend was out of the car, talking to one of my friends), and Nico talked about himself in third person, something about loving me and not being able to have me. And then I thought about how, twenty years later, when he and I began dating and I was heading out for a night of dancing and drinking with my girls (OMG, there would be *men* there!), that HE brought the word “relationship” into our lexicon.

But once he had me, really knew he had me, the thought of us being in a relationship threatened him. Huh.

I guess that’s another one of the universe’s ironies . . . and what I love about this one is that it isn’t bothering me. I’m completely okay with letting go of someone who only wants me when he has to reach for me.

And that’s why the universe in my new BFF.

Universe, you have a *lovely* sense of humor

I woke up refreshed. I got my children off to school, went to my lovely-sparkling kitchen and arranged some lovely-fragrant flowers. The angry voices in my head that kept saying, “He’s an ass. That stupid fucking asshole. I hate him” were gone and were replaced with a lovely ambivalence.

It was sort of like that feeling of a fresh start that I have whenever a semester ends; I had this bounce in my spirit that made me feel like anything was possible.

And that’s when the beautiful men started texting. You know, right after I’d decided I definitely would *not* drown my post-break-upness in a hot male body.

First Ryan, the mutual friend of Nico and me, had my phone buzzing. Ryan, truth be told, is a royal fuck-up: cheats on girlfriends, lands in jail for DUI, struggles to keep jobs (but fortunately doesn’t have to stress much over any of this because his parents are loaded). Yep, *definitely* not boyfriend material. But, he’s got these sparkling blue eyes and this dark hair with silver speckles that makes him look rather George Clooney-ish. The kind of guy I’d love to have some hot, no strings attached sex with.

And so a couple texts into my conversation with Ryan, another text message interrupted.

Yep. A.

After I had been so very smart and decided that, no, I wouldn’t return to that familiar body for comfort just because I’d broken up with my boyfriend, there he was.

I love the universe’s sense of irony.

So there I was alternating between text conversations with these two delicious men. My conversation with Ryan had a little hint of flirtation to it, but my conversation with A. . . yeah.

I had the best intentions. I mean, I’d gone through AA (A. Anonymous) and learned to manage my addiction. I was like the alcoholic who was good enough with her sobriety that she could go hang out with her friends at the bar and not have a drink and be totally cool.

Totally cool. Really.

It was innocuous at first. He asked how I was doing and how things were with my new man. I didn’t bother to tell him about the break-up; better for him to think me still attached. And then he started saying the nice stuff. I, the word lover, am a sucker for the nice stuff.

But nice turned dirty, and it was as if six months had never passed at all.

He said I was “hot enough to have many suiters” (okay, he can’t spell for shit; I overlook that because he’s hot). He called me “a sexy little thing.” He started reminiscing about our last time together, how much he loved the way I looked in the little black dress that stayed on for merely a moment.

And then, “Maybe someday . . . :)”

I called him the devil for tempting me, and he worked on nudging me. “Come on, it was fun.”

“Something about you though,” he said, “Just want to eat you up.”

My mind got lost in all the possibilities of those words.

And so I said I had to go and that I’d catch him later.

“Catch me? You’ve always had me . . . Always will in some ways.”

My now-ex-boyfriend felt pressured to commit to me, but here was my boy-toy, vowing I had him. I laughed again at the universe’s irony.

****

I’m not going to fall back into A’s bed . . . or his couch or his chair or his floor or any of the other places I’ve fallen with him. At least not right now.

But I’m having drinks with Ryan on Thursday. It’s innocent. Really. I swear. Really.

Perhaps I doth protest too much 😉