I am surrounded by men who appreciate me. Who just think the world of me, who think I am cool, and intelligent, and a good person. I am not writing this to brag or be all high up on myself,or anything like that, its just that I hear this often. And probably because these friends of mine (all of which I have known for years) all feel they want to let me know how special I am and that my marriage ending wasn't because of me. But I know this, and I don't worry about it.

Hmmm...while writing this, I think to myself, maybe the key is the fact that Ihave known all these people for so many years. Of course people who stay in your life and care about you through thick and thin, do so for a reason. I remember when my love of my life first called me last year after not having spoken to him for so many years, I told him that if he was calling to just pop in and out of my life, for the hell of touching base, I wasnt interested in it. And he assured me he wasnt. It makes me think, the reason I said that was because I knew/know I have enough people in my life who think I am wonderful, people to share things with. I felt so happy...And yet, I was never as happy as when he made his way back into my life again, and suddenly everything else seemed so empty. Is this because all these people, dear friends who think the world of me, who think I am wonderful, who think I am so special and different and kind, do not receive the same degree of admiration and awe from me. And so through writing this it becomes clear, it is because in him I found a person who I felt was simply magical and wonderful as well (despite all noted and well documented flaws).

While I listened to a good friend talk tome tonight and tell me all these wonderful things he felt he had to share about how he thought of me as a person, for the first time I questioned whether "he" my "one and only" still remembered all these things about me as well. Or whether "he" had now made them all conditional.

As humans,we mak so many mistakes, so many things that we look back and think, god , if I couldrelive that knowing now what I know, I would have done it this wya or that. And yet without having done the things we have done and learned from living, we would be incapable of making these choices or distinctions in that spot again.

Sometimes I wish I was 18 again, but I would not want to give up a single moment of my life, asingle mistake, even a single moment of fear, or doubt, or distress - but especially not a single one of the smiles I have shared after thinking about exactly what I have done.

~v.