Superman is Indeed a Myth

Shocking title, I know. You were so sure that Santa Claus is real and there really is a network of elves slaving away in a toy factory at the North Pole. But, alas, it is not meant to be. Fairy tales most often are not.

This fairy tale, however, does not involve glass slippers and evil queens. For a week, I've been trying to put all the puzzle pieces together, to make some sense of the contradictory messages, but again, you can't rationalize crazy or stupid. The gripping problem for me is and always is the lack of sanity in any answers I can gather and attempt to analyze.

For a week, my Caribbean boyfriend has struggled with my indecision in regard to my relationship with Superman, but when I simply said he was the first man to make me feel anything like I felt with him, the translucent veil was lifted from his eyes and he could see...see the love that was allowing the intense hurt and pain. I wanted him so desperately to be the man I fell in love with that first weekend, the kind and caring man seemingly interested in nothing but me that does appear on occasion from time to time. However, it does not reconcile with the other man in him - the one that disappears from radar for long extended periods of time, the one that does not always make me a priority, the one that can not or will not intertwine his love for me into his life.

So, in his absence last night, another man reminded me of my beauty - internally and externally, my intelligence, my innate ability to draw others to me, something my Caribbean boyfriend has always said, especially as of late. And I danced, and I felt sexy and sophisticated without him, when all I really wanted was for him to make me feel that way.

Do you know what I will miss the most, though? The everyday call or text that I quickly came to love and hang on to like a lifeline...