Mis-fit

 

A classic from my childhood that is proving useful once again.

As a toddler I had one of these toys. The ball pulls apart and all the pieces fall out.  There is a square, a triangle, an oval, a star, etc.  They only fit through the hole of the same shape. It's interesting to watch children play with these.  Many of the shapes they'll find the holes and push them through.  Occasionally there is a piece that the child is convinced that say, a star shape goes in a the triangle hole.  They push and bang on, trying to get the star in there. After carrying on for a few minutes the child realizes they are faced with a decision.  Carry on as they have been, find a different hole for their star piece, find a different piece for the triangle hole or go find an entirely different toy.  

I don't care what you say, loads of the pieces look the same!

I never had much patience for jigsaw puzzles.  Invariably there would be a piece or two that I swore fit and it didn't.  It would end up slightly smashed and I wouldn't notice it for a half and hour.  Between looking at the little pieces and not finding many that fit, I usually give up somewhere between the half hour and the hour mark.  These are both examples of things that don't fit.  A mis-fit if you will.  In the English language a misfit is a person who is not suited or is unable to adjust to the circumstances of his or her particular situation. 

 

When things in life don't fit it's not always immediately obvious.  Sometimes we carry on, banging things about, trying to adjust them so they will fit. A little grease, a little effort, no problem. One big difference with real life is that there are more than two parts to the equation.  Right man + wrong time = misfit. Wrong man + right time= misfit. It reminds me of the old proverb about being at the right place at the right time.  In my life there are no less than fifteen ingredients that make up the yes-fit or mis-fit equation.

Things have ended with BoT.  There were insurmountable odds what we were working against.  Bad schedules, miscommunications, work stress, friend's dramatic spillover, etc, etc. My inner optimist thought it would get better.  She had the crap beat out of her by his inner pessimist.  I know his version would be different.  He's entitled to that, but this isn't his blog.  After two weeks of ignorance (his word for when you ignore someone.  I've never used it that way until today) I knew it was coming. I've made peace with it and realize that all the parts of the equation weren't there.  I shed my tears for the good times that won't be had again.  For the butterflies I get when I see him.  For the possibility.  I shouted for the times he couldn't be asked to drop me a line.  To return the kindness and courtesy I'd shown him.  I drank because I cared about all of it more than he did, as he didn't care much at all. Best of all. . .  Now I go.  I'll be leaving in a week and a half for five weeks of vacation. I will submerse myself in new places and experiences. 

I hear the tailors in Vietnam are worth every penny.  I wonder if I can get a man tailored to fit me.  He doesn't have to be a perfect fit, but he should be close. Maybe with a little room in the shoulders.