LOVE NO LIMIT

It’s been roughly one year since Psyche’s father and I broke up.

(Pauses and ponders this realization)

Now I just got back from my fabulous trip to Boracay with my two younger sisters and our respective better halves, which I swear I will write a storm about before the week ends but I just thought I’d take the opportunity to reflect on the time that “doth hath” passed since the aforementioned… occurrence.

See… I have this thing with dates. (Ok, I’m gonna go on another seemingly incoherent intro so bear with me, I promise this will make sense once it unfolds.)

So dates. And I mean, calendar dates not movie/coffee/dinner then a dvd at my place date (which the latter, by the way, I don’t actually consider a “date”). But going back. Yeah. I like remembering what happened on particular dates… the randomness of them… trying to find some sort of parallelism in days and weeks and years and times. It’s like making my own little horoscope or Cosmopolitan bedside astrologer. I dunno. It’s just fucking fun. And I’m fucking OC like that.

So some time last year, this month… around this week, my daughter’s chromosome-donor and I broke up (and no, I’m not bitter… I just think “donor” is a better suitable adjective than “ex” when it came to his role in my life --- and I just totally realized that now in my incoherence so yehey for groping for words and never having a skeletal draft or linear train of thought). ----ooh and I think around this time, my current boyfriend was preparing to celebrate his 26th birthday over at hierarchy and some other place... and I did see the photos of that birthday and I thought, "Man, look at this guy having fun and totally not looking for me while I was catatonic on my couch listening to Taylor Swift's "Breathe" ad fucking nauseum. Guess the stars didn't align for us that night."

*shrugs*

Anyway...

So yeah. My relationship was ending some time this time last year. And I think it was one of those over-the-phone-the-very-thread-of-the-fabric-which-held-our-fragile-couplehood-together JUST.BROKE ergo let’s just stop screaming at each other and kindly get your bags and leave as quietly and ninja-like as possible.

You know how they say “When God closes a door, He opens a window.”

I never really got that.

I mean… what? He’s gonna make you fit through the window? Like, you’re not good enough for the door? Why couldn’t there just be another door to another house? Does He reopen closed doors? And seriously, why a window? Why couldn’t He open the back door instead?

Does He mean “window of opportunity”? Because if that’s what He meant… then it must’ve taken me a while to see it because… I think I was too busy trying to open locked doors.

….

 

Last year, one of my guy friends from college sent me a message after I texted that I was single again. I guess of all people to text, his was a response I looked forward to because… he never patronized heartache. He had a very good way of demeaning the dramatic. And I had just about hit rock bottom with Taylor Swift AND Colbie Caillat in one frikkin' track. It was girly drama overkill.

*cue R2D2 message alert tone*

“You’ve been in and out of relationships and what not… so I’m sure this is a giveaway for you.”

Some fucking friend, right?

Right.

It WAS a giveaway. And I seriously laughed.

Here was MY window to try again. To give my daughter something better than what she was forcibly born with. And to give me a chance to make mistakes and to learn from them and to further hone my own qualities and reassess my own values… and yeah, to have fun whilst having the luxury to be stupid and reckless and carefree… and finding someone to help you dust your knees for the countless times you’ve fallen.

I think there’s something really fulfilling about being able to “edit” oneself.

And new beginnings are just fucking awesome.

So now, let's just Love without a limit. And Ms. Mary J. Blige will preach it. =P