Epiphany

I will always stand by the fact that Chris 1.0 (first in a series of 4 - all of whom played the trumpet) is absolutely brilliant. He's much like Dan Fritz, my long-time friend, in that he acts like a mirror. So often our words and thoughts spill out, without pause or consideration, and those two men act as the echo of the canyon. They say back to me exactly what I said, exposing every little thing.

I've been growing a lot inside, and although abstinence wasn't the direct cause of that, it acted as the catalyst. I thought about what Chris wrote before I even read it. I thought of Trevor and asked myself if he were 50 y/o and ugly, would I still be considering his offers? No, I would not. I wouldn't let him talk to me that way or even consider it. But there is a part of me that has trouble seeing through it because, on the surface, Trevor is what satisfies my list.

And I think that's the trouble. "Satisfaction" is the basis of my list. Each of my ex's has given me a quality that has "satisfied" me. Chris 1.0's intelligence, Chris 2.0's sexual nature, Steve's "come what may" attitude that makes me, in turn, less severe, Jay's financially supportive nature, Bryan's old world manners and etiquette, and the list goes on and on. But one thought lingers in my mind: if I need so much to satisfy me, to satiate me, then I am a void that needs endlessly.

Chris is right, none of the above qualities makes a person "good". And although it's easy to sit here and be tricked into the lull of how those qualities do play out in a relationship, because they do have their advantages, don't get me wrong, they don't make a person worthwhile. I must then ask myself, why did all of my relationships break down over time? Well, I didn't trust half of them, and the other half I didn't respect.

And that's what I realized last night about Trevor. He has the looks and sex appeal of Chris 2.0, a good chunk of Chris 1.0's intelligence, the attitude of Steve, the financial capabilities of Jay, and the etiquette of Bryan - seemingly the perfect man, someone who could add even more qualities to "the list" just by being himself. But I don't want him in my life. Why? Because I don't trust him. I don't respect him. In my heart of hearts, I don't believe he's a good person. He's just another automaton created to be a woman's perfect man, by developing admirable qualities within himself.

And then I think of myself. What am I doing? All of the things that I possess - intelligence, wit, charm, beauty, poise, confidence, class, sex appeal, groundedness, and inner strength. All of that does not make me a good person - someone a man can trust and respect. They are simply "super powers" that I possess. However, that doesn't mean I'm fighting as a hero. In fact, I'm the most deadly super villain men have ever faced - able to break hearts and spirits into two. So, as the cliche goes, with great power comes great responsibility. How does a villain change sides to do good for humanity?

How does it go in the comics?

Maybe the villain fails and falls and realizes that those she once called allies have abandoned her in favor of someone with stronger or more useful super powers. She realizes that her mindset, of having power and gaining more, while destroying those who have lost their usefulness, was wrong all along. She stops right then and there, and vows to use her powers to preserve and conserve her renewed values. She then does battle with her old allies, trying to bring them over to her cause, to save lost souls, or simply to disarm them so they will not wreak havoc on her or other's lives in the future...