One year ago on this day, I first got to know H. Two months later, alternating between euphoria and despair the relationship came to an end. He moved on so dispassionately that I wondered if everything we had between us was a grand illusion fed solely by my imagination. H turned me into a teenager giddily in love - reviving feelings in me that had been dead for many years. Like a mind-altering drug he could make me forget the struggle and uncertainties my life was fraught with.
I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...
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