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Door Number 2
Door Number 2
I think that I’ve decided that, like A F F, itself (we know the statistics so there‘s no need to repeat them), at my age I am into a relational buyers’ market. In life’s game of “Let’s Make a Deal” I am Door Number 2.
You know how it works - you can keep the stuff you already have or you can trade it for what’s behind Door Number 2. Behind that door may be the greatest prize of all - or a broken down mule hitched to a broken down cart filled with mulch. You never know.
The simple fact is that most of us will stick with “the devil we know” rather than take a chance. Maybe we’ve been weaned away from risk taking in real life by extreme sports and reality television - we can take our chances vicariously and change the channel when it threatens to intrude upon our delicate psyches. The devil we know we already know how to deal with - we’ve developed strategies and mechanisms and have achieved the virtue of “stability” regardless of how chaotic or dysfunctional the relationship may be. We know how to deal with it. Or think we do. Why take chances?
A female friend once told me “I’d do anything to not be alone,” and I thought it one of the saddest things I’d ever heard. While I can’t say that the opposite is true for me, I will confess that I find no great discomfort in solitude. I have a multitude of projects that require my attention. I’d rather it was a choice rather than a necessity, but I find myself with very little spare time to commiserate over it (I occasionally MAKE the time, and make the BEST of it, alas! LOL )
Ya know what? I may not be the best prize in the world, but, in my own admittedly biased opinion, I think I’m a pretty good one.
And sometimes they choose Door Number 2.