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The supermassive black holes are all that rema...

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I have a new trick to being non-committal in a relationship: I import my men from other countries.

Think about it; it’s rather ingenious really. It’s like that summer love affair that you know will end. It smarts like a jellyfish but soothes like warm tropical waters. Then poof! Voila! It’s gone.

Now is that a depressing statement or what? There are a few ways one can look at it, well, actually 2 ways.

1) No matter the circumstances I’m lucky to have met such a unique person.

2) I’ve yet to grow up and smell the sulfur.

Isn’t it annoying? (she asked to nobody in particular).  Yes, it is. But I am of 2 minds (or three depending on the day). I really do feel fortunate to have met certain people; and like most on the brink of romance, I feel my feet on the precipice of that vast canyon of self-doubt. But the jolly thing about getting older is that now I can peer into the chasm and quietly take a step backwards before I let its power suck me in.

Romance is like a black hole in the universe. As you approach it from a distance you are a whole entity, properly proportioned, clear minded, solid of spirit and body. But as you get closer and closer to a black hole you begin to thin out, and stretched to your limit you finally…explode! Yay!

Don’t you just love a good metaphor? But like I said over a year ago; Cupid has a sick sense of humor. You can either be given a full draught of his evil potion or sometimes just a minor scratch upon the skin…which like an Oleander can infect you within seconds.

True romance leaves you heartsick but not dead and buried.

Last year I imported one that turned out to be seriously dishonest of character. Oh I knew it at the time but I ignored my instincts (for a pretty face, don’t we all?) and slowly walked to the pit. But I did not run headlong and this was a clear sign that I knew something was wrong. And sure enough, like my sister enjoys saying, “sit back, grab the popcorn and watch the show”; his true colors came out in time. So I put my cowboy hat on, holstered my gun, saddled up and rode off.  I had invested little so little was lost.

The latest import has gone back across the globe and although I am wistful I am not finished. Yes, it slapped me across the face like a bolt of lightning. I had no chance of escape. My routine was ruined; the cave was invaded with laughter, I lost sleep, equilibrium, and all sanity, and yes, it pissed me off but in a good way. So I will let the universe, the black hole, the great chasm end this one for me and who knows where or how it will end.

So far the air is sweet and full of oxygen…and gravity.

One last thing, always have a crush on the side – it keeps the playing field even. I’m not saying make it real, just keep it in your back pocket to keep you sane and to remember that you are an individual; a whole being separate from everything else…until the black hole tears you apart!

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