The thing I'd rather not label because I'd prefer to make it into a dart board.

Oookay, story time again. Get comfortable.

(P.S. this was a couple years ago. Like...a good 30 fb albums ago. It's not like it happened yesterday. Believe me, you'd know, I'd be ten times more dramatic about it.)

So there I was. About to poke my head through the thick red curtain for the millionth time. I'd said these words so many times it was a game to myself to see how excited I could be about every word...like it was the first time I'd said it...instead of the 7,352nd time. :) The cute little clunky piano playing just behind me was about done with the intro music...3, 2, 1...now it's me!

"Hello there!" says the girl in the blue plaid pioneer dress, happy and smiling, two braids, me. just like always. Chalk up time #7, 353...

cue brain coming to a screeching halt...

OH CRAP. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???

My monologue was rudely interrupted the very second I opened the curtain, and in the midst of the words tumbling out of mouth, there he was. Green polo. That face. The millisecond that followed felt like an eternity, my heart was in my throat...and refused to go back to where it should be...and all I could think was "Keep going, Dee! Don't stop! I know you're freaking out right now, but seriously, DON'T STOP!!"

I wanted to run off the stage crying. Find a corner to hide in so I could get my composure. I was so not supposed to be experiencing those emotions right then. No way. Missionaries aren't supposed to feel their heart stop like that, right? Right. So why was he sitting there, staring at me expectantly?

Oh, probably because I needed to keep saying my happy, perky lines.

Except it wasn't him. It was his clone. Even wearing the color I first saw him in. (The original him.) REALLY, UNIVERSE????

REALLY.

Deep breaths. It took all day long for my heart to stop pounding. It's not like that was the first time I'd experienced that. AND it's not like that was the only person it had happened with. I mean, really. One time I was listening to conference, and an entire talk was basically describing the guy I'd been head over heels in love with not two weeks before. (same guy whose clone made me stop breathing) All this while I'm trying to get over him. And by trying, I mean that's where all my energy was going. AND I was watching this conference talk with ANOTHER GUY. A DIFFERENT GUY. A guy I couldn't make myself see as any more than a friend. (Poor guy...I was a mess, he knew it, and was still nice to me. * sigh *) For crying out loud!!! (Okay, maybe "in love" is too much. But I tell you what - I was definitely on that ROAD. And desperately trying to get on a different road.)

* heavy sigh. exasperation to the extreme *

Stop shaking your head and calling me crazy. Talk to me. WHY? Why does that happen? Why is that okay?! I had a conversation with a friend this morning who keeps experiencing her own version of this thing I'd like to call "cruel irony." Cranky 'ol Yzma really termed it as such, I'm just taking it and applying it to this very fitting situation.

Do we find what we look for?
Or is the universe trying to tell us something? And if it is...is it:
"Don't give up hope!"
OR "I'm trying to make you CRAZY! Bwahahahha!"

"..It's called CRUEL IRONY...like my dependence on YOU... (see about 4:00 to 4:30ish)

Explain, please. Because, although the people and the situations change, it keeps happening. And I know I'm not alone in this. That's not a tender mercy. It's a crazy-people-maker. How's a perfectly sensible girl supposed to keep her cool around here, kids?!