I Want To Be The 983rd Best Lover You Ever Had

More Fiction For Fun

If I refer to you as mom and you remember changing my diaper you probably should skip this post because you won’t enjoy it.

Since you are going to get the gift of seeing me in person shortly I’ll trade you this particular story for one about coefficient of friction in a way the lay person can understand.

And if I can’t explain it in a way that you can follow I can connect you with one of four actual rocket scientists I know or some of my math major friends.

Or if you really want to get into some hard core stuff I’ll regal with tales about the World of Concrete, the different types of light bulb bases, why you want to pay attention to lumens and how it drives me crazy to see people mix 2700k and 5000k lamps.

I Want To Be The 983rd Best Lover You Ever Had

It is possible I once told a girl that I could do things no one else could because she trusted me as she had no other.

And it is possible I said I knew that any time she got scared she would create a list of reasons to be angry with me because it is easier to say goodbye or keep your distance when angry.

It is also possible I suggested I wanted to be the 983rd best lover she ever had.

When she asked why I didn’t want to be number one I said it was too much pressure. She laughed and then I said I wasn’t sure I had it in me to follow the 982 men before me.

She didn’t laugh at that.

But when I promised to take her to Judy’s porch and prove that there was the kind of electricity she hadn’t felt in years she changed her mind.

*****

There are lots of other details in this fictional tale that I might even write about here or elsewhere. Hell, I might even call the tale Love Wins unless I choose to make it one of those sad romances and then I’ll call it Unfulfilled Potential and Promises.

 

This Is Hard

Two years ago life took an unexpected turn that I sometimes describe as feeling like the car went off the side of a cliff and rolled down half the mountainside.

I scrambled out of the car, tied a rope to the engine and wrapped the rest of it around my waist and have inched my way back up the hill.

Sometimes the roots and rocks I held onto gave and we slid back down a bit, but I never let the car drag me all the way back down the mountainside.

There were moments where I made good progress and moments where I didn’t.

Moments where I didn’t have the strength to do more than grunt “this is hard” and dig my heels in so that we didn’t fall down.

I couldn’t fathom letting go and couldn’t conceive of holding for as long as I have, but here we are.

Two years later and I really don’t know how my arms weren’t ripped from their sockets and my back wasn’t broken.

The last time someone asked I said was too stubborn and too stupid to let go but it could just as easily be said I was too scared and or too arrogant.

Two years into it the best answer I have for having reached this place is I learned the hard way that once you are in to some things the only way out is through.

If I could go back in time I would do a half dozen things differently and the stories you’d read here would be that of a different man.

Can’t say they would better or worse. Can’t say they would be funnier or sadder, just that they would be different.

Still wouldn’t have that moment from the fraternity where we did a little dance because we were lucky enough not to have video footage of that, but I digress.

Time To See The Doctor

I had some blood work done a short while back for a company function and discovered the numbers were…ok.

They weren’t horrible and they weren’t good. They were somewhere in between and though I am certain I am a mutant and that my body responds differently to some things I suppose it is time to see a doc.

Time to get a physical and make sure there is nothing truly unusual, sort of strange or really bad to manage.

Information is power but I have to be honest and say part of me doesn’t want to open Pandora’s box because I am already juggling torches, chainsaws and a bowling ball.

Do I really want to add to that mess?

There is a part of me that is certain if I keep pushing hard at the gym those numbers will go the right direction–bad will go down and good will go up;

You could tie it into my feelings about natural disasters.

I prefer earthquakes because you don’t know when they are coming. They just happen and you hope that you have done a decent job of preparing for them.

Hurricanes irritate me because the idea that I can see them and have to wait to discover whether they are going to visit is annoying.

That is a lot of energy to use wondering and waiting on something that may or may not happen.

Same kind of deal with tornadoes.

On the other hand I always have an earthquake kit. Always have a first aid kit. Always have some supplies.

So maybe I ought to just find a doc and get the real news about what is or isn’t happening with or to me.

Never know what can happen,  just that truth is almost always stranger than fiction. The things that happen to us sometimes are beyond imagination–the good and the bad.

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