8:58 a.m. - 2005-06-20
Metaphor Rant
Objects in the rear view mirror not only appeared smaller to me, but were immediately infused with the kind of haloed light reminiscent of tattered Catholic holy cards. It was always the same. Whichever man I left was discovered, too late, to be the only man for me. Home proved to be anywhere I did not hang my hat, at least not for long. The steps never varied. Once out the door, I could not resist that backwards glance guaranteed to turn me into a pillar of salt. Egypt continued to beckon like a shiny jewel in memory's landscape, tricking me again and again. Regrets pursued me like heaven's own hound, keeping me bound to the past. I framed the card Tom had sent after our first date. It hung like a mirror over the sofa in my parents' paneled den. Tom had intuitively stumbled upon the perfect metaphor for my life. On the cover, one had to squint to discern the faint image of an almost girl melting into ethereal blue and coral landscape. Beside her stood a unicorn. It was, of course, me. Barely visible and without a boundary to call my own. Leaning for stability upon a transcient fantasy about to be revealed yet again as less substantial even than myself.
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