Dress Sizes

**Breathe, one, two, three, wait before jumping over the edge.**
Mine is a cursed heart and was the moment I told the tall, lanky man that I wanted to kiss him.  Who knew he’d kiss me back, or that kiss would send me spiraling out of control?  Since that moment, I took to writing love letters.  I write letters of love, of anger, or loss, of ache, or pain, and from almost the same instance, we started our love affair, I wrote ‘love me no more’ letters, and please ‘ release me letters’.  I beg him to be strong and not contact me—since I am the weaker one—but apparently he is weaker than I since he has never truly let me get too far away or go too long without pulling me back in.  He goes silent for a while, which hurts at first but I gradually resume normal breathing until he pops up in my instant message window, and we tango, spare, and begin again.

Some people blog to tell a story, to confess, to become famous, and then there are those of us who come out of the closet with their heartache with the wild notion of self-curing.  I don’t know if that will happen here or not, but there isn’t anything to be lost.

Over the edge, and damn the rules….

It’s what I tell myself when I dump the rule book and throw caution to the wind, go forth with reckless abandonment.  Like a toddler out for a stroll that has recently come into their sea legs.  Wobble, wobble, wobble, and plunk, butt meets the floor and its back up again for another spin on the red brick floor.

My nature is to evaluate the situation from all angles and disregard the fine print, RED warning signs, where there is smoke, there is fire, warnings.  Instead, I acknowledge the down side of any option or opportunity under evaluation pending my decision on direction, and then completely ignore, inhale, count to ten if necessary and then jump into the arms of the unknown, signing the cross and saying two or three ‘Our Fathers, maybe a Hail Mary, and a big OM to Buddha, hoping this will cushion my bum when I crash down.  Life is like Accounting 101, for every debt, there is a credit, or is that Buddha teachings, for every positive there is a negative, every sad moment, there is a happy.  Regardless of the level of precaution, there is no guarantee that the landing is going to be smooth.

Instead of worrying about the ‘what might happen if I do this vs. that’ I’ve adopted the abridged check list noted earlier.  I am going to do what my heart desires and dictates regardless of the negative, which may include some or all or a combination of the following:  a possible heart break, the potential loss of faith in humankind, specifically the male species, or the extra monthly credit card payment, a loss of breath, a diminished sparkle in my chocolate colored Latin eyes.  Why stress beforehand if I am going to make myself sick after, or worse live a lifetime of ‘I should have, why didn’t I’ and ache for the loss of something that never was.  No, not I, I say.  There will be the extra credit card payments, tears over loves lost, a cracked heart or two, a journal with no more room to write ‘notes to myself’.  I will live dangerously and damn the rules.

Bring it on and let me live.  Live big and without a net.