[note from Mr. P: I started this last summer and I was in a bleak place, but I somehow came through it with the help of friends. So I wanted to pull this out of hibernation, and add my new attitude for the new year… Life is short, and a graceful life is attractive in it’s own right]
I swear I’m living a fucking reverse fairytale. Started with the happy ending, then progressed to cleaning out the fireplace and being kicked about by three ugly step sisters.
I know how Lucifer felt after the fall. Paradise lost.
I’m living the classic cautionery tale of “you never know how good it was until you fuck it up.” I had a perfect marriage (well nothing is perfect) and tossed it out with the proverbial bath water.
Sitting here watching a sappy movie on TV, I should really just shut it off; the formula is the same, they have a (depressing) theme of searching for love, finding it, almost losing it but then living happily ever after. None are about living happy, then progressing to ‘unhappily ever after;’ unless it is a movie about some villain. dunt, dunt, duh….
I need to get past the character that I’ve cast for myself. Villian, in my own bad (and boring) B-movie.
It’s tough change when you sit around in the house all weekend during the summer watching crappy B-movies on netflix, Domino’s doesn’t deliver dreams. It is a nice day, I should be outside meeting new and exciting people, or at the very least mowing the lawn for pete’s sake, it’s starting to look like a jungle out there.
I need to start with admitting that I’m single.
Not a soul at work has a clue that I’m divorced. They periodically ask about my wife, (who was very charming and popular). I usually make something up, she is fine, all is well… It’s not a lie, I’m sure that she is happy and having fun somewhere, but just not with me, so just make shit up, go on about this and that. As I lie about it, I realize that it is only going to make it more difficult to admit it later, that I was divorced all along.
My close friends know better, they know the sad tale of Mr. Perfect “asshole” and they sympathize, to a point, but I can tell that I’m wearing on them, I see it when they ask how I’m doing and have I moved past the stigma of divorce with hopeful looks on their faces, then the slight shaking of their heads when they walk away, at my response “I haven’t come out yet.”
A very good friend said that I start by just saying it out loud, get used to the words and in this way, I will slowly get used to this new me, and I agree, she is very smart, but what I can’t get into my head is how to actually get past saying it out loud to telling people at work, that I am divoreced. Just do it, she says…
Sitting here in front of the TV, I feel the need to write a story, a good B-movie, about paradise found. Well lost, but then found. It needs to be believable, no zombies, no aliens, just me and someone…
Paradise found, a movie that I would like to see on Netflix, a story that speaks to me, encourages me, is me. I need to put down the remote and get writing…
Boy meets girl, girl overlooks his obsessive personality, sees only the good, and transforms him from failure to future. They become a world of one. Two as one against the harsh reality of day to day hum drum. Hold on, that’s not the answer, I can’t write myself into that trite crap, the fairy tale ending I see on these stupid shows. I need something more, I need a muse, I need… a real girl, one that is not in my imagination.
I just need to get up, stop feeling sorry for myself, go out and live the life I’ve been graced with.
A life well lived is it’s own reward, and it is a powerful life, that people; interesting single people will want share with me.
Starting each day I will recite: I just am a charming, intellegent, fit and sexy man, I will find a charming, intellegent, fit and sexy woman, to co-star in my B-movie life of paradise found. 🙄 (maybe a few zombies…I just love a zombie movie)
©The Autobiography of Mr. Perfect, 2016