He left you, my present for you!

[ballerina]

Happy Holidays and I hope you all meet your startling hunks : )

 

The night before Christmas from the Mercury News Dec. 24, 2004

 

'Twas the night before Christmas

and Ted had a cold.

He had it alone

and he feared growing old

sneezing forever

into the abyss.

Was it his fault

Life turned out like this?

 

 

"Yes" said a voice

living inside his head.

The voice was Lorraine's

It still was not dead.

Divorce would not kill it,

Nor, it seemed, time.

‘Twas a year since he’d

Committed the crime

Of saying goodbye,

Of choosing to leave

On Lorraine’s favorite night.

When else? Christmas Eve.

 

 

 

“Your kidding,” she’d said

As they’d sat by the tree,

Trimmed and all bright

As she’d planned it to be

“I thought we were happy.

We don’t even fight.”

“There’s something missing,”

he’d said – then took flight.

 

“It’s a marriage manqué,”

he’d complained to his shrink.

“stop speaking French, Ted.

Just say what you think.”

“Its lacking, it’s failed,”

Ted tried to explain.

 

“I know what manqué means.

Now what of Lorraine?”

“She doesn’t excite me,

She doesn’t have spark.

She makes too much meat loaf,

Likes sex in the dark.”

“has she changed?” asked the shrink.

“No, she’s just as she was

I guess I’ve out grown her

It happens. It does.”

 

The shrink lit his pipe.

“Ted it’s a phase

Brought on by the strain

Of these damned holidays.

Your great expectation

Of close family scenes

All come from perusing

Those slick magazines

Resist the tyranny

Of forced Christmas cheer

Go back to Lorraine.

Bring in the new year”

 

“Thank you, but no,”

Ted said, standing up

“I’m still a young man.

I must drink for the cup

of exuberant life.

I must dance until dawn.

I need to seek truth

I need to date blonds.”

 

And date blonds he did.

They were all under 30

They made him feel young,

Vivacious and flirty.

He fired his shrink,

And he fired Lorraine.

In the summer he even

Dove out of a plane.

His date landed well

But Ted, being older,

Managed to fracture

His chute and his shoulder.

“ow,” he remarked

as the cast was put on.

“skydiving’s fired.

So is that blond.”

 

“Your lucky you’re living,”

The technician said.

“but my life is manque”

sighed the disgruntled Ted.

He spent the autumn

Expanding his mind

By going to the opera

And worshiping wine.

 

On thanksgiving day

He ate turkey pot pie

And thought about calling

Lorraine to say hi.

The urge was short-lived.

He conquered the mood

By recalling the pain

Sent Lorraine straight to food.

 

“she’s probably fat now,”

he thought to himself,

pulling a second minced pie

from the shelf

 

December was rainy.

Ted’s cold was voracious.

It lasted for weeks,

Wet, cruel, and tenacious.

It conspired with Christmas

To make him feel weak.

 

“I might miss Lorraine,”

he though. “what a geek

I must be to let sentiment

Seize me this way.

I must gather strength

What did my shrink say?

Resist the tyranny

Of forced Christmas cheer?

Nuts. I’ll go see her

Its been a whole year.”

 

Sneezing and wheezing,

He knocked on her door

While loud gales of laughter

Invaded each pore

Of his being: who dared

to sound so overjoyed?

Who was with her?

Why was he annoyed?

 

“Merry Christmas, Lorraine,”

He sputtered and coughed.

“Gee you look great.

Did you take some weight off?”

Smiling, she seated

Ted next to the fire

And said, “say hello, Ted

To Mr. McGuire”

But when Ted raised his eyes

 

To the startling hunk,

 

He felt his tongue freeze,

His heart went kerplunk

And his mind started to whirl like a rotary fan.

 

“Can I get you some Christmas Eve

meat loaf, my man?

Lorraine makes the best!”

 

Roared the robust McGuire.

“could you use a hot toddy?

You look mighty tired!

 

And forgive me, I don’t think

I quite caught your name.”

Ted racked his brain

By the hearth’s golden flame.

But Lorraine answered for him,

 

Quite happy to say:

“This is my ex, dear,

 

Teddy… Manqué.”

 

Ted sneezed with such violence

He sprang to his feet.

“not funny!” he shouted,

his face like a beet.

 

“I thought it was!”

said Lorraine with a grin.

But all Ted could think

Was: Lorraine looked so thin!

So pretty, so glowing,

So clever, so bright!

Her meat loaf smelled like

Ambrosia tonight.

 

Where had she gotten

such warmth, with and spark?

He wanted to love her –

Tonight! In the dark!

 

“A pleasure to meet you.”

McGuire volunteered.

“We’ll have to do Christmas

Again – say next year?”

And suddenly Ted was

Back out on the street,

Feeling manqué indeed,

 

Like a hearth with out heat,

Like a egg lacking nog,

Or a pole missing elves

Like a shelf that’s completely

Lost track of its selves.

 

What to do? Where to go?

Worse yet, what to think?

 

“Call me back” was the

Message he left for his shrink.

“Call me back and tell me

Why I feel derailed!”

Fearing the F word

He wouldn’t say “failed”

 

Coughing and snorting,

He trudged home alone

And ate four deli turkeys

Right to the bone.

 

When his shrink called him back

He was on his third pie.

Teddy manqué

 

Laid his fork down and cried

[honeyspur]

This was great!

[survivor3]

LOVE this!! Thank you so much, I needed this today!