Independence Day

Maybe I have adult-onset ADD, maybe I’m just flaky or unfocused, but in typical fashion (lately) I found my mind wandering to an odd place on the way home from work today…

I was thinking about my bike—the Tour de Fat is coming to Denver this weekend and I’m trying to decide if I have time to decorate my bike, and if so, what to do with it. I was thinking about its name—The Silver Steed—which led me to think of fairy tales and of myself as a kid. I was a nice blend of girly and tom-boy as a kid (still am, really) and although like every little girl, I did have day dreams of being undiscovered royalty, unlike typical fairy tales, I never wanted the prince to come rescue me and carry me off to the sunset. I wanted the prince to rescue me from my tree house so I could hop on a horse and take off to find great adventures. Sometimes the prince was left in my dust; sometimes he got to go, too.

So I was thinking about that today. I think I’m still waiting for that prince to show up and join me in great adventures. I just have to find that one who knows when to let me run wild on my own.

In the meantime, I’m relishing my independence and freedom from commitment. So this Wednesday, while the rest of the country celebrates our independence from the British monarchy, I’ll be celebrating my own Independence. And I’ll dedicate that celebration to the nice guys who were in the right place, at the wrong time; the ones who let me go, or I let go; the jerks who never deserved me; the bullets I’ve dodged; and that one man who will know when to run beside me, and when to let me ride on my own.

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