Static Cling

I was talking to a friend recently about what it is that we attract. She had been going through a particularly trying time and was in a negative headspace. Everything she touched seemed to go awry and as is often the case, trouble begets trouble. She said, quite rightly, she needed to get herself out of the downward spiral by focusing on what she wanted from life. That if she could attract so much of the bad with her thinking then surely the same must be possible with the good.  Smart girl.

I think the Law of Attraction gets a little too thrown about for my liking, but there definitely is something to it. Though I’m not sure what mindset I’m in that brings in the series of bizarre that I’ve been experiencing. 

For example, for the past six months, I’ve been focusing on meeting the right guy. Not that this hasn’t always been something I’ve desired, but I’ve done a lot of internal work on what it is I want and need and throwing it out into the universe. I’ve been taking chances and being open to new experiences I otherwise might have avoided. All good things and I’ve met a lot of good men. Maybe not the right ones, but good ones. But I’ve also been attracting something else. No, someONEs else. Men from my past.

My first love is now married but apparently believes himself to still be in love with me when he’s drunk…which since he got married in January, has been frequently. There is a guy who I had a “thing” with who now has a baby and a live in girlfriend but texts me to tell me he thinks of me a lot. Another man I used to work with texted me in November to tell me he’s out of a relationship and, in a decidedly flirty way asked if I ever make it to Minnesota or if he could visit me in DC sometime. An acquaintance of mine in New York confessed his feelings for me before I left for my trip to India in December. And just last night, another guy I used to work with told me on the car ride back to my hotel that he still had feelings for me. Despite the fact I haven’t seen him in two years and he lives in San Francisco. A capper to an otherwise completely platonic evening. 

Dear universe. I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but you are a fickle, funny wench.