The sun seems to be poking it's head out from under the covers after a two-year nap, and while it has scientists all atwitter and afeared about its implications, I must admit it makes me smile.
There's certainly a correlation between myself and the sun, here. And I thing it's about damn time for some flare-ups. It's what the sun does, for god's sake. Things will get interesting again, and I will radiate like I'm meant to.
Perhaps that's why in the last two months, I've had not one -- not two -- but three significant exes find me and tell me that they still love me and think I'm great. Here's one from Mark, who now resides in Spain:
Ahh, that's right! Post a really sexy photo as your profile pic.
Damn you! The only "ex" I still love.
M xx
Just before him was Crosby. Before that, Adam. It warms my heart and makes me feel good that I had an impact that's stretched across the oceans and years for these men. And it also warmed my heart to look back over my surprisingly long (for my young, young, still young age!) romantic history and realize that of all of them, there's only one I'm not fond enough of to be unhappy at hearing that from. And that one? He can rot in hell. But who cares, with all this love.
All I can say about my recent turmoil is this: nothing makes me forget like a warm body. Feeling just fine.
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