T-to-the-A

And because then I realized the hypocrisy…

In The Daily Drool on March 8, 2010 at 10:52 am

Sooooo,  which among those of you throwing their eyeballs at this isn’t sick and tired of hearing about “Heartbreak 2009 (+ a wee bit of 2010)”?  Yeah, I thought so.   I mean, I’ve talked about it quite a bit, and I’m pretty sick of it myself.

Yet, I realized shortly after yesterday’s post about the bravery of loving even when you know it could hurt, that I am soooooo not looking for anymore “dogs” to love for just that very reason:  I am afraid.

Boo on me.

Boo for making a strong case only to hold it up to you all and wag my little finger, but then look around myself and pull in the ropes and push off for sea without inviting anyone else aboard this soap-box.

And without any plans to do so again in the near future.

Oh, sure, I know the pain of all that loving-and-not-receiving-in-turn will fade… I’ll lose my mind again over some cute little golden retriever or cocker spaniel…  But I am not looking forward to it.  For the first time ever I can say “Umm no thanks, not right now, I’m not looking for another helping of ‘whoop-ass’ just yet, thanks.”

Because the fear of the pain of loving?  It’s got me good.

And I just think it’s hilarious that I could be so caught up in the idea of “Well, if you’re afraid to love, you’ll never know the accompanying joy” that I would completely miss my own point.

(SIGH)

So, this is just really a FACE IT! blog… an admission that while it is nice to preach the joy and benefits of love, living that bravely is a different story all together.  One I may have lived in my twenties, but one that I’m less eager to push through in my thirties… I guess older bones take more time to heal.

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  1. We are now down to one ancient dog – Deva – who believes she is a puppy a few times daily. Sort of like a Benjamin Buttons kind of a puppy – one who has a hard time getting up, is totally deaf and almost completely blind. Thank God for that sense of smell or else she would respond to nothing. At the apex of our animal owning when kids were younger we had two cats, two dogs, a turtle, and an Iguana. We have only a few other times in our lives been reduced to “only one”. When we had to put Mr. Almond Kitty (all our cats have been named after nuts) down in December, I realized I didn’t want to replace him immediately. Also – loved getting the two kitties (his sister, Little Miss Lychee, died two years ago) and Deva at the same time and the wonder of the dog and cats loving one another fraternally and then so much to the point of interspecial sexual humping made SUCH AN IMPRESSION that I am going to do it all again. I already have names for the kitties picked out (“Hazel” and “Brazil”) and for some reason I can’t get the name “Cha-Cha” out of my head. HOLY SHIT. AM I REALLY GOING TO GET A PUPPY AND NAME IT “CHA-CHA”?????? See – this is why you can’t leave town, Tiffany – you have to stop me.

  2. Oh, my… that made me laugh 🙂 Cha-cha… I’ve always had visions of a little dog names Spork for some strange reason. I can hear you calling to it now “CHA-CHAAAAAA, get away from the mailman!” Hahaha, wonderful!

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