Lucky

You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.
~ Jonathan Safran Foer

Billions of years ago when the earth was still cooling and my beau Stan moved in with me and my roommate Gary, my mother and I had a conversation. She was opposed—didn’t want Stan and I shacking up. Why? Marriage was not on the menu, in fact he and I had only been dating for a couple months. She was afraid I would be hurt.

With confidence I replied that entering a relationship with the expectation of only hearts and flowers/no sadness or pain was like jumping in the ocean with the assumption you wouldn’t get wet.

She was right though—I was hurt. Horribly. The wound was so deep that it took years to process and get past it. Mind you, getting ghost dumped was mixed in with the whole life changing Nf2 diagnosis and my first brain surgery (the first of, so far, seven). Also, my self awareness was in a radically embryonic state. I didn't yet know who I really was or could be. I learned though and grew a huge motherfucking lot because of that entire awful mess.

If I could I do it again—have Stan move in—would I? It was most def not my brightest exploit—by a ridiculously mega long shot. Maybe I could have learned all those hard life lessons in a less heart-wrenching way? Probably. Given that my time machine is busted, going back and finding out ain't gonna happen.

So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.
~ E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

Yesterday was the anniversary of my beloved Kevin Scott’s death. He made this drawing as he was succumbing to the rat bastard disease that finally did him in. It was 32 years ago—he was 32 years old.

One of the memories that came to me last night was of us watching the original Alien movie in his living room. I'd not seen it before and was so wound up in the horror of it all that I did sit-ups throughout the really suspenseful parts (so...most of the movie then). He found this hilarious.

It was.

Love and grief are conjoined twins and you can’t jump into the pool without getting wet. Life is not a G rated rom-com or a Disney movie where happy endings abound.

Shit happens—I deal with it and, if I’m lucky, I learn, grow and move on.

Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.
~ Virginia Woolf, Orlando 

I've been tremendously lucky in love—first with Kevin, then with The Amazing Bob and now with Ten. That and I learned my lessons well.