Today I took a great leap of faith and
fell out a rickety, old plane’s door at 13,000 feet up in the air. No, it
wasn’t by accident, or a practical joke-gone-horribly wrong. I actually wanted
to fall out of the plane, even paid a small fortune for the pleasure of being
terrified—except the fear didn’t last longer than the time it took the pilot to
reach jumping altitude. Okay, plus the one full minute we were freefalling, but
in the grand scheme of life that’s barely a tiny knot in the big spool of
thread of life. Uh . . . a quick blink?
If
you ask me why I decided to do something nutty like skydiving, I’ll tell you
this— I didn’t want to wait any longer for someone else to make me happy.
That’s what I did for the past two years dating my last boyfriend. I say did.
We’re no longer an item—haven’t been for more than two months now.
Realistically, I don’t think we ever were really an item to begin with—not
after I found him in a dark movie theater with his arms tightly wrapped around
a shapely woman with white-blonde hair, discussing their impending cruise to
Cabo San Lucas. (Sigh . . . I so want to go to Cabo.) I know it was rude of me
to sit behind them and listen to them talking, but what could I do? I was a
born chicken.
No,
I wasn’t born a fowl, let’s get this straight right now. Sheesh. . . I
eavesdropped just long enough to know Tina would be his “first mate” on the
trip when he kissed her—dramatically—as if to prove a point—I just didn’t know
to whom the message was being sent. I sent a text to Jared, my (The names and
places have been changed to protect the very guilty) ex-boyfriend, later and
asked him what his plans were for that upcoming weekend. I suggested the
whitewater rafting activity. His response? Well, he made a lame excuse, and I
sat home—alone—again.
Long
story short, it turned out Jared liked dating four women at the same time. I
discovered through a very reliable underground source, besides the blonde I saw
him with, he dated a beautiful redhead named Kate, a woman with raven black
hair named Katrina, and of course, me, (I’m a brunette) all at the same
time—this was why I jumped from an airplane.
Did that make sense?
In other words, I decided not to wait
for a date to have adventures. I want to make my own happiness before life
passes me by.
Let me try again.
If
I’m not happy with me then how can I be happy with anyone else?
My
bucket list was fairly simple to come up with—I thought of everything I always
wanted to do but didn’t want to do it alone, and of course, if I had enough
courage to do it. The list came along naturally.
In the #1 slot? Skydiving—check, and
double-check.
#2—whitewater rafting.
#3—rock
climbing—indoor and mountain.
#4—Learn
Spanish and go to Machu Picchu, Peru.
Yes,
this is only a partial list of the 21 events I have in mind before even
considering dating again, but it’s a truly great beginning, don’t you think?
Come back and check later for updates. Maybe even click on the “followers” icon
and introduce yourself. Leave a comment, and I’ll check on your blog in return.
Always,
Hope
Posted
by Hope Alexander
That sounds dangerous!
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