i stand before you naked

tracy lane

Today is the day! The day I have waited for, the day my new life begins…the day I get my car’s oil changed.

Say what?!?

Let me explain…

See there was this guy, let’s call him “Six Feet of Shoulders”, we exchanged words, me and Six Feet of Shoulders, the kind of words they make love songs out of and I was hooked. Bad. Like mainlining the pure stuff.

Then one day he took off without a word and I was left with just the ghost of him…even his abandoned six pack of beer laughed at me from inside of my fridge:

(insert Vincent Price’s cackle from Thriller)

I went through a brutal detox, it involved the ugly cry and Adele on repeat.

Out went his stuff, gone went my Facebook, up went the burning sage and I moved the F-on. Six Feet of Shoulders was just somebody I used to know.

Until I got my oil changed.

When I got into my freshly oiled machine of eco-goodness and looked up at the reminder sticker in the left corner of my windshield I exclaimed rather loudly and slightly demonically:

“MOTHER FUCKER!!!”

3/26/2012 – just happens to be Six Feet of Shoulders’ birthday – great. So am I suppose to go another 10,000 miles with his birthday branded like a forget-me-not note in my car?

A sensible non-neurotic car owner would have:

  • a) removed sticker
  • b) gotten over it and him
  • c) would have forgotten his b-day by now!
  • d) ditched car and moved to NYC
  • e)  all of the above

But I am the type of girl that:

  • a) won’t spend a lucky 2 dollar bill
  • b) won’t cut the tags off a mattress
  • c) doesn’t download pirated movies or music
  • d) has only gotten one traffic ticket and one parking ticket in my entire life

Rule breaker is not in my DNA, so the sticker stayed and it has been a daily reminder of what happened, until today…

I drove off the Toyota lot and looked up at the top corner of my windshield:

IT WAS SAME STICKER – SAME DATE!

The Tracy of before would have marched back into the garage and demanded that the scarlet letter of an oil change reminder be removed. But I am not that girl any more…four months of seeing his birthday made me realize that Six Feet of Shoulders is in my heart forever, no amount of lube jobs was gonna wash him from it.

I am a better woman for having loved and for loving him…and I dig it – I dig the aging of my heart, it tells the story of who I am.

And to my new man – whoever you are – I promise to stand before you naked, stripped bare of all the walls that hurt will build, with my battered, duct tapped, hot glue gunned, needle and threaded, but still beating heart ready to love…

…because I am worth it…I am one sick ass dope chick.

So if you find your heart busted up, drop kicked and left in a gutter. Remember it all starts with you. Love that bitch of self like no one else cause you are gonna walk with you forever. Some fortunate soul maybe lucky enough to catch a few beats of that incredible you – so stay open. Stay sexy. Stay true.

10 thoughts on “i stand before you naked

  1. Infected. I tend towards thinking of the men who still linger in my heart as pathological. I want to get well soon. Be gone, you sugar-tongued psychic cling-on! But…I like your perspective…. Think I’ll try it on. I do love and dig me…indefinitely!

  2. You’ve always been the romantic so happy to see that you’re now also the fem fatale! kill’n it with this blog!

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