Perhaps this may be why my life is so cluttered, that I am a packrat and tend to save everything. Honestly, anything that has a good memory associated with it, I save. I know, crazy, right? The idea-board/bulletin board/whatever-the-hell-it-is that sits beside my computer area is full of random crap: ticket stubs to movies and musicals, Christmas cards and postcards, invitations, stickers and pictures, and even knitted swatches (I can only assume that I placed them there to inspire me to work on the sweaters they are for). If something I look at daily to remind and inspire me is this cluttered, is it really any wonder that my apartment is a mess? *sigh* Right now, I'm putting myself on notice: I need to declutter, to reorganize (yes, Michelle, I said reorganize), to clear my house and head. No, that doesn't mean I'm getting rid of some of these memories – some of them, I just can't give up and some, I just won't. (That doesn't sound like it bodes too well for my self-notice, huh? We'll have to see about that.)

See, the fact that I save everything brings me little surprises like this one. A reminder of the Best Second Date Ever in my dating history. While things didn't work out for me and this guy, he was a good guy. We even had a great Last Date, which is very unusual (especially given my last "relationship"). I love surprising myself with the things I've forgotten I've saved – the memory is always a pick-me-up, if it's found on a good day, it becomes an excellent day and if found on a crap day, it instantly becomes better.  

The other week I needed a smaller wallet for my small purse and remembered that I had a wallet that I hadn't used in awhile stashed in my closet. When I opened the wallet, I found this ticket. The memories of the day came flooding back: how he called me while I was on the train to see if I wanted coffee and greeted me with it just the way I liked it. How he took me down to the TKTS booth at South Street Seaport and let me choose the show, took me to dinner and a speakeasy after the show. He was that "perfect on paper" guy. You know, that guy who seems to be everything you ever wanted, but in reality, isn't. We lost touch for awhile, but with the power of Facebook we reconnected – we caught up on each other's lives: he found out how well the shop's been doing and how well I've been doing and I found out that he had found "The One" and married her, changed jobs and is living in Connecticut now. (I won't lie, it was a bit of a shock, but I am truly happy for him.)

All this got me thinking about Love. A few weeks ago, on the way home from a Caps game, my friend Mo and I started talking about the subject – I had answered a Facebook meme with the answer "a lost love" to a question like "what is something that you miss every day?" or some such shit. Now, Mo has known me most of my life and has either known or known about 90% of the men in my life, but he was confused as to who I would consider a "lost love". While I knew who I was talking about, naturally, I didn't know why he made such an impact. If you've read the blog for awhile, you might be able to guess: B. I didn't mean to fall for him – I certainly didn't intend to, especially since he lives in fucking L.A., is an ass, and I only got to see him once or twice a year with lots of texting in between. Who knew that I'd end up feeling more for him than I did for any of my ex-fiances (though I did adore them and still adore one of them)? He just knew me. He had waited almost 20 years for me. Yet, it didn't work. He couldn't do it and dropped off the face of the Earth. So what to do? A part of me still loves him, despite not having talked to him in a year, but it's not like I'm sitting around and waiting or anything. Y'all know me better than that. So what do I do? I date. I actively put myself out there, in hopes that I'll find That Special Person who will supplant B in my heart – and in the meantime, date and have fun. Mo was surprised that B had meant so much to me, mostly because I've done a good job at keeping it hidden. (Mo has known B for as long as he's known me.)

Then, there's my ex, J, who I adore. Life would be so much easier if he and I just fell in love again. Our families would be thrilled – and he is finally in that place that I wanted him to be 9 years ago: ready to get married and have kids. Yet, I don't know if I'm in that place anymore. I had dinner with him the other night, we discussed his work, the fact that he's retiring soon (supposedly)… how his mom misses me. I really got the feeling that his feelings for me haven't really changed in the last few years – when we broke up, it was awful and I had to be away from him. Ultimately, we decided that we had had so much history as friends that it would be foolish to throw that away. Which I'm so glad about. He is the one person who knows me best in this world. This man has watched me truly grow into the woman I am today – he's known me since I was 19, so he knows the good, the bad and the ugly. I love the man, but I'm not in love with him anymore. I'm not ruling out that possibility, but it's not where I'm at right now. I think I've got a few more wild oats to sow.

Okay, this post got a bit out of hand… I didn't mean to just put that all out there, but there it is. I need to let go of one man, think about another, and focus on what I really want. What that is, I don't know, but let's hope the journey is a fun one.