So This is Progress...

He crossed my mind today. For the first time in forever I didn't have the squeezing in my chest or the tightening in my throat. Time was, I would have had to sleep with three, four or more meaningless bodies to flush him from my system. I got by without this time. I guess that's progress. Though it would have been nice to get laid.

It's probably pure coincidence that the first of my daffodils bloomed yesterday. Winter bypassed us, it seems, so everything is happening early. The year's first wasp learned the hard lesson of Raid a few days ago. The tulip leaves are prominent, the lilies are inches tall, the trees are budding and we have our first tornado watch of the year today. The red lipsticks have appeared where the peonies will be. The ants and flies will follow shortly.

I noticed rows of shoots that were barely distinguishable from the greening grass. Yesterday, I sat on the ground and pulled the grass away to reveal three neat rows of something. Much as I don't guess well when it comes to men, I'm a worse horticulturist. They will be something this year, whereas in years past they were obliterated with the first pass of the lawn mower. Where the shrubs were removed last year, something resembling flower shoots have appeared in abundance. They could well be beautiful weeds. But as the saying goes, a weed is simply a flower out of place.

The windows are open throughout the house. I had them installed last year to replace the old wooden pulley windows that were hampered by decades of paint and humidity. Fresh air has flushed out the dullness of winter. The artificial heat has been exinguished. Rain is on the way - or so they've said for the past couple days. I'm beginning to think they predict such things just so we'll tune in to see how close to an apology they come when we're left dry. I threw down several pounds of grass seed in hopes that the rain would bring coverage to the bare spots. That's as much a guarantee of drought as washing one's car is a promise of rain, I think.

Things are better now than they were in January. The temperature is in the 70's. The flowers are up. The windows are open. The rains are coming. The seed is planted. The porch swing will welcome me back in the mornings for my newspaper time. I'll dust off the grill and my nerve soon enough.

I've been invited to join a group of friends for a Pub Crawl on St. Patrick's Day. I've never crawled in a pub. OK, that's not true. I have crawled in a pub. But I don't think that's the primary goal of this outing. The point is, I'm open again. I don't feel like I'm in protective mode like I was a few months ago. I don't first identify as a man done wrong.

Along with the daffodils, peonies, lilies and mystery plants...maybe the temperate winter has brought me out of hiding a little sooner than expected, too. I think that's progress.