Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

They are everywhere. The spectres of relationships. These ghosts of boyfriends past.

I would say "I can't swing a dead cat without hitting someone I once dated" - except I just hate that expression. What kind of freak coined that phrase?

However unfortunate the phrase, the experience is even worse. And not because these men are mean, hideous or otherwise unacceptable social specimens, but almost entirely because they make me reflect on my life. And there are days when I'm simply not prepared to do that.

So instead - I lift my glass to these men. I drink a toast. (Okay, fine - a giant glass of wine, whatever). And I think - each of these apparitions has made my own soul stronger.

For that, I forgive their trespasses in my memory and okay, my favorite hangouts.

I relinquish my inner-Scrooge and instead favor Tiny Tim on this one.