But, I was still dreamy enough to imagine my ex. swirl down the bathtub drain. The thought of simply "Washing Him Outa Of My Hair," thrilled me.
Anyway, I decided to refer to my ex. as "Dagwood," because I think it should be his new name- I thought about my "Dagwood" as I looked in the mirror at my "new" grays, feeling slivers of ice running through my veins.
You see, it's Dagwoods fault that my hair is turning gray in my tender years. Oh, how I wish I could magically twinkle him into a little man and watch him go down the drain, swirling in a tiny tub tornado. But, the best part of this fantasy was the thought of him calling out to me in a tiny voice,
"Ann? Help me Ann, come on honey, wha...in-the... Ann?"
I'm distancing myself, I'm not sure, all I know is that men are a pain in the behind and they give you gray hair.
I suppose this morning's moment was due to a weary subconscious. I've been hit by waves of nostalgia that stay in my brain long after relationships are over...and a few of them remain drenched in memory- soaked- far away from now, sailing into the future.
In any event, I don’t think you ever get pass some loves, no matter how many times you flush them down the drain.. And sometimes more than one love will remain transfixed in your head, memories, and heart; it's unfortunate that there are times when love is not enough to fix a relationship.
In closing, I will admit to a present make up, break up relationship, a man I wash down the drain and out of my hair frequently, although he's trying to stick to my heart and torture my soul.