Love: Finding a mess you like and spending the rest of your life trying to clean it up.

I heard that the other day and it resonated with me. I never liked cleaning.
The times I did buckle down and commit I found myself unable, or perhaps unwilling, to contain the spill. I eventually walked away leaving behind aspirations I could no longer support.

I see other women and men in relationships and I know their partnerships are just as difficult as any I have been in. I’m not special. I watch these people, who appear happy, and wonder if there will ever be a mess I like enough to stick it out for.

I continue to be attracted to men who are unavailable to me. And those who chase after me, who pamper me can’t hold my attention. All part of my brain’s mechanisms for keeping me from taking the easy way, or settling out of pure loneliness.

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Chrissy Clary is ready for a new adventure. Any suggestions?

I was born into a large Southern family, fueled with cheese grits and dramatic stories of adventure and love: A great grandfather who ran white lightning, a grandmother who put passion before all else and a cousin with a proven strong right hook.

I have been feeling my own restlessness welling up lately.

I posted on Facebook a question, “Chrissy Clary is ready for a new adventure. Any suggestions?” After a quiet summer day watching the hummingbirds fly, and wondering if I should follow their lead, I was looking to the masses for help. But it was a small voice that grounded me.

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