Is It Forty Years Yet?

 Today is an off day. I am lying on my back staring up at my ceiling fan-caked in dust and stagnate (just like me). I consider its purpose. Brandi once told me fans that circulate gather more dust than still sitting fans. Perhaps they conjure more free floating particles that would normally remain atop dressers and night stands.
 My mind is a ceiling fan of sorts.

  I am on a hamster wheel. I wake up, I wonder why you are an asshole during my morning commute, I leave, hit the Y (or the bar, depending on how I am feeling), I go back home.

  It sounds more glamorous than it is.
  I assure you.

  I keep having prophetic dreams and words given to me about the pursuit of life past this ending. However, I do not know what life looks like right now...other than organizing my sock drawer, not lusting over the gorgeous man I seem to be running into every time I go to Crema and refraining from verbally annihilating you. I want to keep you put together even in my cob-webbed mind. Because, sadly, you are the last good thing that has happened in awhile. And frankly, you treated me terribly. You were not that good.

   I keep asking God if I will ever be worthy of having someone come in who loves me simply because I am Jade and in turn, worth a shot. I hit a brick wall. I do not know what that wall is or why it is there. Maybe I was right all along. I could be built for singleness. I think I could find contentment in that.
   But I would be lying if I said I would not be disappointed.

   At least I am not an orangutan swinging from relationship to relationship trying to fill the void or even worse--trying to find an explanation for my own brokenness in someone else's eyes.

   So pine over your exes.
   Feast away
   On those with no defenses.
   But, don't consider me
   (Not that you ever did).
   Injured or not
   I am a gaping wound and still too good for you.
 
   So, fester.

   Today is an off day. I am a ceiling fan. And I am alone.


  Where's Your lesson, God?
  Is it forty years yet?