A wise (and I might add, beautiful) woman once told me “you have to put out positive things into the universe in order to receive positive things in return.”

Unfortunately, I haven’t quite been able to implement this piece of advice, which I know to be good and right and the very recipe for healthy and normal self (just add a pinch of Martha Stewart sunshine and stir). I've tried! And I smile, and the anti-depressants kick in and life is good for an hour or two.

But, I do still cry. I can’t help it. There is usually music involved, something about love, or loss or….trees(?). It really doesn’t take much. But I HAVE erased all traces of DHT, Corrine Bailey Rae and Gabriel Mann from my iPod. That’s got to give me a FEW sunshine points, no?

I’m sure you’ve all had images dancing in your head of your darling Scarlett staying in night after night with no one but Ben, Jerry, Van Gough (bottle half empty) and the cast of the OC (still alive and well on my TiVo) to comfort her. And while, on the surface, this ensemble could be construed as a rather…lively… way to spend an evening, it's not QUITE an accurate description of my daily routine.

Fortunatley, the universe has its own rosey colored plans for me, dispite a lack of deposits its 'positivity' accounts weighed against a hefty portfolio of doom and gloom.   For starters, I’ve gotten some wonderful, quality friend time in recently! Barbie time, XO & G time has been wonderful if slightly emotional and intoxicating. I’m hoping our encounters in the near future will take an upturn turn ala the sunny spring weather!

Job is great – I’m busy, which I love. Kicking ass and taking names – what I do best (professionally anyway)! And since the federal government has deemed me fit to handle super secret stuff, I'll be starting my new position in June after a much needed vacation. So that's DEFNITELY something to look forward to. 

And then there’s Army – who is nothing short of perfect. He’s gotten the friend thumbs up, the very decerning cat vote, and even my father thinks he's brillant. Our relationship is insanely open and honest, and sickenly healthy. Weekends on the Eastern Shore, hiking, movies, grilling, drinking, dancing and all around general fabulousness.

And sometimes it feels right. And sometimes I’m happy and I laugh. And sometimes, I forget, and I let myself start to care, but then I stop. I stop because I’m scared. I stop because he’s leaving. I stop because I’m not quite whole.

Maybe he won’t turn out to be the Sandy to my Kirsten, but right now, he's definitely the Zack to my Summer**.

But here's a question: how do you fully enjoy the Newport colored sunset when you know it will eventually disappear? And puh-lease don't tell me 'live for today', because that philosophy only REALLY works in Jonathan Larson musicals.

 Frankly,

*If you get this reference (and no - I'm not referring to the case of South African Zin delivered to my apartment yesterday afternoon), give yourself cool points for the rest of the month! You're set!