If at first (and second) you don't succeed...

Yep, I'm back on the dating sites. No, I don't know why.

Take that back, I know exactly why.

Nephew Dr. J and Br. B (Mr. B's brother) were up a couple of weekends ago to take care of some of Sr. B's stuff. I got to hang out with two fun guys all weekend.

Made me realize how much I miss guys. I always had guy friends when I was younger. I've always liked to hang out with guys. Being married to a sailor for decades had its upside in that regard.

It pretty much comes down to that: I miss guys.

Last time I tried, I realized I was trying to fill the Mr. B-shaped void. This time, somehow, I know it's different. I know it's just for me. I have no need to frantically search for love or jump right into an LTR. I simply want to go out and meet guys that I like. Let things go as they may.

Girls, even old ones, sometimes just wanna have fun, you know?

What a difference from four years ago, when the thought of even leaving my couch was overwhelming.

It's been a revelation, stepping into this from a much more, well, normal place.

Uh oh... do you think I'm finally becoming an adult?!?
 

So it begins

Four years ago last week I sent the email that started it all.

Five months ago last week it ended.

Four years. Seems like 100 years ago. Almost feels like it didn't happen to me. In a way it didn't, I suppose, since I am not the same person I was four years ago.

Believe me, that's a good thing.

On a completely separate topic, my chiropractor's been doing Graston Technique treatments on me, hoping to get rid of some low-level chronic back pain. The goal is to gently break up small adhesions, scar tissue, etc. that have formed in the muscles over the last half century years. It's a little uncomfortable and there's some soreness, and sometimes bruising, but the body heals up these small traumas and the muscles are supposed to regain more normal mobility.

(Yes, there's a point to that last bit. Wait for it...)

Four years ago it began. Five months ago it ended. It was traumatic. Got me some new scar tissue, on top of even older scar tissue. My emotional mobility is somewhat restricted right now, and there's some chronic, low-level pain. I could medicate, and while that's always fun, it wouldn't make it better.

What a ridiculously accurate metaphor, eh? Seriously, I couldn't fabricate anything better than that.

Speaking of fabrication, I tried to write a short bio the other day for a photo blog I'll be participating in. I realized if I tried to recount the events of the last four and a half years, no one would believe me. It sounds completely over the top, like a bad Lifetime movie.

I'm looking forward to a time when I can stop playing that bad movie over and over in my head, and maybe focus on what's ahead. Or even the present, but I'm not even sure I know how to do that.