March 2, 2012 § Leave a comment

Day 62.

Skip the bars and forget about Sunday service, the place to find a good looking man in this town turns out to be the local video rental chain. Friday night luck struck me well tonight as I walked in to rent a couple flicks. The cutest man my eyes have spied in many years was finishing his video purchase when I entered the front door. Our eyes met, and I was nearly certain it was love at first sight. That is until I realized he looked quite similar to my ex-husband.

What’s a divorced girl to do? His long dark hair was packed into his grey beanie; his skateboarder’s shoes telling me much about his personality. I am pretty sure he noticed me (as the skateboarding-type usually do) however I had no time to check his left hand for a wedding band. Had things progressed further into our “relationship” (obviously though, in my case it never does) I wonder how I would tell him he looks like my ex-husband. Or does one even try? Surely, after a few moments of making eye contact with this cutie I would lack any case to argue comparable features. After a couple of minutes, once our love had developed into a full on romance, I would see him for the man he is, not that boy I think he looks like.

As an outsider I am sure others do the same as I. You see a divorcee with a new lover and you think, “Wow, he/she sure looks just like/reminds me of/couldn’t be any father in appearance from her/his ex!” Talking about this with my mother while browsing the new releases it crossed my mind that maybe I am the only whoever thinks such an absurd thing, yet sitting her now, after watching our first rental, I am back to believing I am not the only one. And I find it justifiable (although admittedly a bit rude and assuming) given that two people were madly in love and devoting their life to each other, but now separated and looking for a new life partner. We all have our “types,” our preferences, our likes and dislikes. I tend to be attracted to men with dark hair and skateboarder’s shoes. It is difficult to believe that if I bring home a man with dreadlocks, my family will not find the comparison to my ex striking and bizarre, wondering why I should like another dread-head after how severely the last one betrayed me. Then again, if I fall in love with a portly, blonde-haired gentleman I will no doubt hear a slew of “Well, we didn’t see that coming! He’s not your type!”

In the end, I know it is not worth pennies what other people may think of the next handsome man in my life. Nor does it really matter if he looks like the last disappointing guy or is drastically different. What is of importance in the end (and in the beginning and middle too I suppose) is that I love again without fear…skateboarder’s shoes or not.


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You are currently reading Sixty-Two at Lost In the Separation.


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