Sorry judges of character get sorry examples of character on their lists of lovers.
In retrospect, I’ve never been in love with anyone but me in my relationships.
When I rewind the movies in mind, I was the only one who loved the way I wanted to be loved.
The only one who was willing to be there during the tough times, the only one who didn’t ditch, the only one who tried to make holidays and birthdays special. The only one who KNEW the other’s birthday (without having to look it up). As in: “by heart” because “close to heart.”
I was the only one who cried alone, often, and at all.
Husband #1 did go to some medical appointments with me, but not many. I did all my own chemo , radiation, post-surgical, and most of the fertility appointments, including the driving. He was golfing (like he always was; husband number 2 was always biking) when I miscarried my first pregnancy. Said “pregnancy” hadn’t met the dictionary-definition of “child” yet, so I suffered alone and no one comforted me. It was a terribly lonely time.
Basically, I was the only one who could be bothered to keep a promise in most of my significant/insignificant relationships.
I have a million other examples, but I’m suddenly green at the gills. Or is it gray at the grills? Honestly, I can’t remember my “stupid shit” anymore!
You know, the kind of stuff you blab about over pillows when you’re in love?
Or how I would imagine it might feel.
I’ve said it before and I’ll probably keep saying it, but:
I am The Best Lover I’ve Ever Had. For My “Life’s Official Record,” I was THE BEST: The Personal Best and The Collective Best.
I did it ALL!! I kept the plates in the air. I dropped half of them, but at least I was at home, breaking them-while-TRYING-to-juggle-them.
So, no “mea culpas” and no “mea culpabits.” In now and in retro: I’m an 11❣️❤️🔥🔥