Who's Counting?

It's a funny thing when you are capsulizing your life in broad strokes to someone who doesn't know you particularly well... Skipping the details that make all of your decisions make a bit more sense, you tend to cover the highlight reel, hit the key points that are generally accepted as important but sometimes the story seems more odd than you thought. And you're the one who lived it.

This happened to me recently. Talking about the big relationships I've had in my life, I named three. Partner #1; short, tragic, painful, leaving indelible marks that although faded, pop up every now and again. Partner #2; longer, stable, generally happy relationship that ended in mutual, respectful agreement. And Partner #3; you know all about that one.

There are several ways to interpret this bird's eye view (relationship-wise that is). Some people say you get one true love in your life, someone who will sweep you off your feet and with whom you will, of course, live happily ever after (I blame Disney for this... stupid 'princess being rescued by prince charming' story lines setting little girls up with the notion that a man will take care of them and men with the equally twisted notion that their only role in the plot is to save the woman). Clearly I've messed that one up because after three tries, Disney and I have agreed to disagree.

In Sex and the City, Charlotte decided that we all get two true loves (a convenient conclusion after the failure of her first marriage). Although not a popular view of love, it's an agreeable perspective given most peoples' situations. Still not looking good here because clearly I've over-shot by one.

And then there's the sporting reference. Three strikes, you're out. And like everything sporting, this connotation does not work for me. At all.

So what's left? Am I done? Had my chance, roll up the rug, turn the lights out and start collecting cats? No. I don't buy into that either.

Four. Four leaf clover. Shamrocks. Luck of the Irish.

Now there's an idiom I can get behind!