Paper-mached heart ...

There are times in my life that a certain song paper-maches my heart and will not let it move. More so in the last couple of years, but I have always made use of the repeat button on every stereo that I have used. For the last couple of days it has been Shut Up and Sing by the Dixie Chicks. Kirst, Melissa and I went to see the Chicks in concert when they were here in November and Melissa made copies of their newest CD for us. However, they got lost in the renovation black hole at Kirstyn's house for a little while. And so it was not until a few days ago that the CD finally slid into the blue world that is the dash-board of my fly-girl (yes I named my car fly-girl ... what is it to you?). The first song moved me, the second made my smile, but it was the third that led to the full-on one-girl show down Deerfoot, and then Macleod, and Anderson, and Crowchild ... and well basically everywhere that I have driven in the past couple of days. When the Chicks sang it at the dome it took my breath away. I had never seen a song performed with such devastating emotional investment, like it was the last song that they would ever be allowed to sing.
With my foot taping, my head banging, and my mouth in full oprahtic ovaltude ... this song continues to shake me months later.
I am horrible at lyrics, song names, famous people's names, and well remembering tid-bits of information. So it is rare that I can sing along to a song ... even after listening to it on repeat over and over. So it was not until days of constant listening that the lyrics were drilled into my brain. And when I actually thought about them I was left wondering why I relate so strongly to this song. " I am not ready to make nice, I'm not ready to back down. I'm still mad as hell and I don't have time to go round and round and round." (and yes that is probably not correct ... but the spirit has been conveyed no?). I am not still mad as hell ... I never really, really got mad ... I got hurt, and sad ... really sad. I wonder if it is not because I wish that I could have gotten that mad. I wish that I could have felt that fire in my chest ... raged a little more than fingering postal-workers and head-banging to M&M in Linda's living room. I wish that I had egged, and sent nasty emails, screamed, and dumped something gross on his head. I wish that I had not doubted and ignored my gut feeling that I had been treated unfairly and had every right to be right pissed. I wish that he had had the balls to tell me the truth from the beginning so that I could have hated him a little more, and hated myself a little less. So it may be years later, appearing out of context, but I think that through this song I am living the rage I never did ... because when I am singing that song ... I am "mad as hell!" Until it is over, and then I am smiling at the truck next to me that someone has written "If my X were this dirty I would still be married" in the dirt. Our humor sure changes as we age eh ... at least mine has. I am way less serious!
I have been thinking about my marriage more lately as I start to date. Being so desperately terrified of ending up back there again. And from a more comic view point wondering how someone who is so horrible at conveying interest to anyone that catches her attention every ended up married. Seriously, I suck really bad at flirting, especially if I really like a guy. But then on the other hand I am encouraged once again by my first post-divorce crush ... because when it really mattered and the guy was really incredible I threw caution to the wind and put myself out farther than I ever had.