Before 6, when I let the dogs out, a fly buzzed in, swooping about the kitchen, zooming to the ceiling, lingering near the blinds that cover the window behind the sink, and dashing in front of the oven. It was frantic, didn't know where it was, but clearly didn't want to be in here. And I didn't want to deal with trying to squash a fly throughout the house. The fly got close to the patio door, I opened it, and out it went, clearly more satisfied with being out there. And I realized that now I am that fly. I wasn't frantically buzzing when I first might have been unhappy with Lisa, and it took the end of that final blow-up to realize that I was unhappy, but I know now that I am happier, that I couldn't do with her what I wanted in a relationship. I spent so much time trying to change myself to fit in this relationship that I didn't think of myself, didn't stick to what I wanted, what I had been looking for. She met much of what I hoped for, but as I saw, not the important things.
I bring this up because in the late afternoon, while I read the rest of The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, I felt her packing up and beginning to leave my heart. Any regrets I had had before, of something I thought I should have done, had faded. I wondered briefly if I could go back to her, see if maybe she was still open. It wasn't something I had considered the first time, but I wanted to test myself in thought, and definitely not. No reason. What you see is what you get. And I eventually didn't like what I had gotten, so there was no point.
Now I sit here, and she's briefly in my thoughts as I write this, but she's vacated my heart. There's plenty of room for whoever might be next, though I'll take my time, give little by little and see how it's received before I do more. I can't give so much again. I want to take chances in love, but that was just far too much.
Along with getting More Notes of a Dirty Old Man from City Lights Books via UPS, there were a few papers with the book, such as a small catalog of what else City Lights has published so far this year. And there was a City Lights bookmark, the front of which has a rocking chair with "poet's chair" painted in yellow at the top of the chair and a poster above it with "Welcome, Have a Seat and Read a Book" in blue. That's what I have come back to, that rocking chair (though it's a couch here), and that sentiment. I started reading The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman, I'm considering what writing projects I should pursue next, and I'm going to write a lot more in this blog than I have in the past two-and-a-half months. I feel comfortable here. My space (sponsored by Blogger). My thoughts. All here.
Now to whatever's next.