I held the rumpled shirt up to my face and smelled to determine whether or not this one would go in the wash. But I didn't smell a clean shirt nor a dirty shirt. It wasn't my smell at all. It was hers. I don't know what exactly she used to get that sweet, fresh perfumely smell on her things. But it was on more than one of my shirt that had been sitting in the bag. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Has it really only been a week?

I know that what we had isn't something I'd forget overnight, if ever. And it crushed me to read her latest blog, where although she didn't name me out, it was clear that she wrote it knowing that I'd be reading it. I see what's going through her mind. She she's me as somebody who has experienced this one-in-a-lifetime thing called "True Love" and threw it away. Yet at the same time she liked indirectly criticizing me of my "inability to see" the other things she believes in so strongly, like angels and the near deification of Mother Theresa. And really, that's typical of these spiritualist types. Even the American Sign Language sign for "atheist" is done by pulling two hooked fingers down from your face, as if to imply eye being forced closed by pulling down the eyelids. Talk about a bias!

Just because I won't forget everything doesn't mean I'll never get over it, though. As I've said, I've been through this before, this dangerous game of blind love where you expect to live happily ever after like in the movies. I do certainly believe we can find somebody to be with and make it last. But I don't kid myself into thinking there's some predetermined "soul mate" out there for me.

And it this point, I'm tired of settling for less. "You deserve better," my friends always tell me after whatever break-up happens. I know full well that the person who gets too picky and tries searching for "perfection" only ends up being disappointed with everybody in the end. But surely I can afford to be a LITTLE picky with whoever comes my way. And that's been the problem, really: I don't do much persuing. I end up blindly settling with the newest single woman who takes the active first initiative to show interest in me.

It's really time to get off my ass and clean this pack rat apartment of mine, where a second person right now wouldn't be able to walk around. To just get RID of shit, somehow. To start hanging out at straight places for a change. Enough already.

Fortunately in the meantime I always have Penn & Teller to comfort me:

Penn and Teller, "Bullshit": The Business of Love
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1098593980242092843