Exes

It's been a week of exes. Ex-boyfriends, ex-mother-in-law, ex job, ex boss.
If I weren't so bloody tired I would expound

Briefly: Had lunch with R on Friday, that alone merits a good thousand words, but I'll sum it up in several, pleasant, familiar, amicable, anticlimactic.

While drinking in a tres gay bar in the Castro on Friday night my former spouse and his mother phoned from the bowels of Target, to arrange a visit. Odd. Have not spoken to her in well over two years.

Tonight I guest bar-tended for my ex-boss at my ex-job, and was pleased to know that I am still a mean mixologist. I have not professionally poured a drink in three and a half years and I was slammed right out of the gate. I had fun, it felt good to be busy. For the first time in a long time I felt productive, as if I were actually working... I had half a thought that I might go home with French Toast, but he is still entwined with the Opportunist, thus I find myself wide awake (and sober!) at one AM, I had forgotten what it is to work at night...

What is about coming full circle, regardless of however circuitous the path, somehow we wind up where we began. Armed with... armed with, more experience, more age, a little more patience, a lot more forgiveness, a quicker wit, a broader spirit and a greater depth of sadness and a deeper breadth of joy. There is something so peaceful about making peace with the past, as if my younger selves were cordially shaking hands with my newer self, bridging the gaps and the aches and the soured relationships, as if we were Japanese, bowing, deeply bowing to one another. This is how it was, this it how it is, this is where the twain shall meet and continue ever onward, loop the loop, figure eights, forever greeting former incarnations and embracing them into the present.