If You Had the Chance…

As I get older (please note again that my profile age is ironic, not accurate), I find myself gravitating to the safe, secure and the solitary. Oh, hell, I’ve actually been that way since birth, but I’m fairly sure the impulse to not be impulsive is getting stronger. Why the other day, I almost turned down watching a new TV show because it was something just a bit too daring for me 😉

So, knowing that I’m one for avoiding, cowering, … Nay—barricading myself against drama, why is there occasional temptation to seek a situation that could possibly bring me pain? Why am I considering a situation that could potentially, possibly (remotely possible at least… Bora Bora remotely perhaps, but possible nonetheless) put me square in front of an ex? Ok, not just any ex. The ex. Why would I do that?

I have no idea why I am even considering it. He’s gone. He has moved on. Nothing would be gained by this. But the idea is there. It’s insidious. When I’m not looking, the idea creeps up on me and tries to completely distract me from things that are much more important.

(Can you believe that Izzie and George ended up in bed? And where the hell is the second X-Files movie? No woman should have to wait this long just to see Agent Mulder doing his spooky thing. But I digress).

Dr. Phil would say that I’m allowing this idea to creep into my days and nights because I’m getting something from it. I’m not sure exactly what that would be, unless, of course, he means the absolutely enormous headache I currently have.

I’ve made a ton of social progress since I made my declaration to date back in August. Ok, a ton might be an overstate. Loads of progress. Certainly a good deal of progress. A bit of progress on the social front. Fine, no progress whatsoever, but I talk a good game, and I am avidly watching the progress of others (where previously, I didn’t really care). I’ve also started leaving my apartment when forced to do so. I’ve even suggested at least two social outings so far this year.

What would be gained exactly from this possible, although highly unlikely encounter? Disappointment and heartbreak, followed by a long, flowing emotional setback? Maybe. Can I expect anything positive to come from it? No, not really. I tend to find closure a nice justification, but rarely a real event.

Would I want anything to happen? Trickier. Not really. I’m not a cheater and neither is he, so I wouldn’t want anything along those lines to occur. But I’ll admit that some sort of grand, passion-filled globally broadcast announcement of admiration might be a balm to my ego. Perhaps something along the lines of:

“I have been a selfish being all of my life. As a child I was given good principles but was left to follow them in pride and conceit. Such I might still have been if not for you, my dearest, loveliest [Kate].”

(double blogger brownie points if you can name that quote)

Realistically, I’ll concede that this type of declaration is unlikely. Realistically, I’d get nothing from even taking the chance of having this encounter. But it’s there. The potential is there. The world of possibility is distinctly apple shaped these days.

If you had the chance to see “the one who got away” again, would you take it, even though you knew nothing good would come of it? And if you didn’t take that chance, when the opportunity passes, would you regret it? Because really, exchanging “what if” for “what might have been” isn’t really an improvement.

Now if we could exchange “what if” for “George Clooney loves you”, that… that, my friends, would be an improvement.

Kate, bobbing and weaving away from temptation, in LA

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