Full pockets empty hearts

Sunday, July 4th, 2010 at 9:57 am

This past Canada Day long weekend my ex’s came out in multiples. The universe is a bit of a jokester that way, and she didn’t even serve them up in random order, rather they all came in perfect sequence from my million-dollar-men era.

First stop…the beach. Sun is setting, waves are lapping, and the hum of a Porsche approaching calms my road-trip ravaged nerves. A quick visit from a “how can we be lovers if we can’t be friends” friend, quickly had me reconnecting with the friend I always appreciated, but hadn’t seen in what turned out to be 5 years. Apparently the “lovers” portion of our friendship was why. Who knew you shouldn’t mix friendship with pleasure? The only memo I got was the one about business and pleasure. Added mental note.

Then it was off to the play paradise of my ex, circa 2003. To be honest, this is a guy I thought I would marry. I did not substantiate this information with enough time and exposure however, and it quickly became apparent back then in ’03, that my conceptual wedded bliss was a bedded blunder. This was a lesson not well received, but hard learnt. I fell hard, and crashed even harder. No regrets, and 7 years later he had a chance to tell me he didn’t treat me the way I deserved, and enough time had passed that I could respond it was his time and place in life. Ironically enough, he’s essentially at the same place I left him when we met the first time, just the numbers have increased. Divorce #2 pending, child #3 in the wings, and increased wealth pouring out of every perfectly placed shingle in his resort style demi-mansion for 1. Sadly his latest manicured maison was built with money, not love. That kind of foundation always crumbles.

To top it off I had my other two ex’s, who completed my millionaire era, making subtle threats of reappearing. Interesting that this fancy foursome all surfaced at the same time. Hmm…

What have I learnt from my past presenting themselves in the present? That full pockets don’t always amount to happiness. Rather what I saw was full pockets and (still) empty hearts. Neither love nor happiness can be bought; I think we all have heard of such rumors. Not that any of the above were attempting to do so, but making the point that rich or poor, our basic needs are still the same…and we seemingly succeed and /or fail at them equally. Sure it might seem as though the rich prevail, but the “love” they think might be surrounding them, is just the clutter they have to drill through to find the real gems.

As for me, I’d like to think I’ve always maintained, …that even though my pockets aren’t quite full, my heart always is.