Truly Disappointing

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Eye Roque

Yep, I know, I rock. Born again.

I’m trying to remember the myth of the phoenix. Does the phoenix come back with its past life experience or not? Because if it does, perfect metaphor:

The last relationship that I was in crashed and burned. It was like staying in the plane too long and losing your chance to bail out and use your parachute, so you end up like a LOST survivor, only not as grimy-sex because you do have a shower and don’t have a hairstylist, and you have to rebuild. From the ashes, rise anew. Now, the plane blew up. You survived. You’re bruised and maybe you’re the doctor who can’t sew shut the wound in his own back – so you have to ask for some help, to trust someone, even though that’s difficult sometimes, because You? Can’t. Do. It. Alone. (Sometimes? You can’t make it, on your own. Thanks Bono.) So you ask for help, you stitch yourself up, and you rebuild. And because the plane Blew Up? You have no baggage. It burned. It’s gone. Clean slate, fresh start, new bed with new sheets for you to make up and lie in.

So this is the trick. How do you crash the plane and watch it burn without sustaining fatal wounds or life-altering physical damage? How do you burn the luggage without burning yourself?

And therein lies the question.

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