You may wonder – why would I want to so firmly place the duncecap on my own head, wear my bleeding heart so far out on my sleeve, say all these things publically that might embarrass an innocent young woman, ???
Well….. I have pretensions of being a writer someday. So any writing practice is good.
And I’m the kind of guy that does his best thinking ‘out loud’ – usually by writing it down. And exploring why my marriage imitated the Space Shuttle Columbia, and why I made such a botch of things with Eve, just might, possibly, maybe, if I am damned lucky and smart and insightful (and I get a lot of “help from my friends”) – just might keep me from making these same foolish mistakes again.
I spent about a third of my life getting to the point where I got married.
I spent about a third of my life being married.
I figure, if the Goddess is good to me and I don’t abuse my carcass too much, I’ve got about a third of my life left. And I don’t want my “Third Act” to be anything less than the best it could possibly be – whatever that means. And that’s a big piece of what I want to explore here in writing, as I draw down the curtain on Act 2 and take my mark in the wings for the curtain’s rise on Act 3.