I wrote this a loooong time ago...

...and I just found it again. I think you might like it:



Ellussive. Elusive. That’s right. Unattainable. Unachievable. Unspellable.

Love. L-O-V-E.

Can’t get it. Thought I had it. Lost it and now I don’t know where I put it. Like keys to your car right when you’re running late and really have to be somewhere... NOW.

You never lose your keys when it doesn’t matter. Sunday afternoon at one and you have the urge for a drive for ice cream. You just grab ‘em and go. Tuesday morning when your kids miss the bus and the cat is in heat and screaming to get a little while you’re frantically trying to get that damn left contact in? No clue. Could be in the freezer for all you know. Nowhere no how. Not to be found.


I’m in a mood. Drinking a nice merlot, took a lorazapam, Popsecret Butter Flavor and Friends.

I have friends. None like the ones on TV. First of all, the ones on tv are all white. And beautiful, skinny, rich or at least don’t admit to having $$$ problems.

Lucky and thin.

In love.

Or having the chance to be and then blowing it.

Nobody I know does that. We know love and we know our bank accounts (or lack thereof in my case).

They have great clothes that I could never afford. As it stands, AJ Wright is a bit pricey.

But mostly, I want to talk about love...

My oldest daughter is 10. Her best friend since age 4 recently screwed her over hardcore. I mean, this little kid has made up lies and tried to make my girl look like a real son of a b@tch. Do you know what she did tonight under my urging?

She wrote her a letter. She put it on the line. A little bit: I know what I did and didn’t do, but I love you anyhow and I want you to be my friend.

When was the last time you had those guts? She knows she’ll show her mother. And maybe all her friends at school. And maybe they’ll laugh at her.

But maybe.... they won’t.

Maybe she’ll live to know that being herself and open and honest with herself and her friends is exactly how a true friend acts. Maybe she’ll know that that is what love is.

And that’s what I want her to know.

So I’ve been thinking about that exactly.

When do you tell someone you love them?

Does it always have to mean, I will love you until I am dead and decaying and then we’ll be in love forever in the afterlife??

Can’t I love you just mean, “I trust you and want to be with you. If only for today, I want to be with you more than anyone else.”? Isn’t love a simple emotion for today and maybe tomorrow?

Isn’t it really two people answering a need for each other? What is all this bullshit that surrounds it?

I stood at an altar and promised that I would love and cherish forever and a f!cking day. Unreal. I was a baby. And even at 50 we are babies when it comes to forever.

So, what are we so afraid of? What makes us think that the person we’re lying in bed with tonight can answer all of our needs until we no longer need anymore?? What is so scary about sometimes lying in bed and answering our own needs for awhile? What is it that forbids us from looking at our lives from the outside in? Why only one? Who made those rules? Why not this one for awhile and then another? What if my needs change? Maybe hers or his will too.

What if his sexy smile turns grey and ugly? What if his staunch beliefs that seemed so perfect suddenly become stiffling and unyielding? What if his put downs and frowns turn into slaps and hits and hurts?

And of course, there’s always the LOVE.

You know what I mean, you see them sometimes too. The Old Couple. They still hold hands. They fall in love at first site and marry 2 months later, have 7 kids and never look back.

Is that what we all want?

To look into the same eyes year after year?

To fall asleep with the same arms wrapped around us, to wake up to the same morning breath and gas and dentures and wrinkle cream? Viagra?

Do we really search to find that one person who answers to our annoying call... “Honey?” Do we really want to find that someone who knows not only our dress size but about the little mole on our unmentionables?


Yes.