Running Into Myself

Choices.  Decisions.  Paths.  These things have been on my mind lately.  Seems I am faced (blessed?) with the task of choosing whats next.  As in, what happens now?  Now that I will be unemployed (unencumbered) in two weeks.  Now that I am 100% single (but not so much ready to mingle).  Now that I am starting to make friends (slowly but surely).  In the book of life...what will my next chapter be about?

I have a theory (disclaimer: I may have stolen this theory, I have had it for so long I don't remember how I came up with it) about what happens when choices are made.  When I make a choice, and go in a different direction, there is still one of me left behind to live out the path not chosen.  Not like a ghost, but moreso like an alternate universe Kelly.  For instance, somewhere in western Georgia there is a 35 year old woman living in a shitty marriage with some shitty kids, slaving away at a shitty job so that she can afford their shitty house.  There is also a 35 year old woman living in a condo in downtown Memphis, going out all the time, living it up.  Also, behold the 35 year old woman stationed in Kabul, dressed in fatigues, writing letters home to her parents.  These are all me.  The Me's I left behind.  I chose to shed the shitty marriage, give up my awesome downtown apartment in order to move in with my boyfriend, and practically deserted the military.  I believe that none of these Me's are any happier or worse off than I am, right at this moment. 

I wonder though, will I ever run into myself?  I see women who could be me all the time.  The chick pushing the buggy full of snotty kids at Schnuck's.  The woman strolling hand in hand with her handsome boyfriend at Overton Park.  The briefcase toting, french twist wearing, sensible heeled woman rushing to board her flight.  These all could be my left behinds.  My What If's.  My Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda's.  And, are they looking at me?  If so, what do they see?  35 year old woman dressed in jeans and a tee shirt with an expensive purse and frown lines.  I wonder if I would represent "Phew, boy am I glad I chose differently", or "Damnit, I should have chosen differently."  I have a difficult time believing that my life would cause envy in the heart of anyone; but, then again, I have envied woman pushing snotty kid buggy a few times. 

There was a movie several years ago that addressed this conundrum, "Sliding Doors" starring Gwyneth Paltrow.  I enjoyed the concept far more than the actual film.  In the end, she meets herself and made a choice based on the benefit of knowing how it all turns out.  Lucky her.  I guess I don't really need to know how it will all turn out, but I would love to have a get together with all the not chosens.  What a crowd we would be!!  Probably the only thing we would have in common would be our age.  But it would be so entertaining to learn what happened to me had I dropped out of college to attend beauty school (like I had wanted to).  Who is the woman that turned a blind eye to her husband's drinking all so that she could enjoy the double income.  How did it turn out for the woman who beat the woman that took away Best-Boyfriend-Ever to a bloody snotty pulp? 

Basically, what it boils down to is, the person I am today is the product of all the choices, big and small, that I made.  That seems to add a lot of pressure to an already tense situation (What am I going to do with myself?), but really it doesn't.  Whatever I choose to do, see, hear, buy, taste, ride, say, kiss, read, accept, turn down...there will be a Me left behind to experience the alternative.  So, I'm really not missing out on anything.  Which actually makes choosing a whole lot easier. 

And, I am comforted by the fact that at least one of my Me's is driving the titanium blue Mustang.  Hope I am enjoying it!