Rubbish or trash - talking?

In a world where people focus on fulfilling the "right now" - with things such as disposable camera's, disposable lunch boxes and disposable diapers (to name a few) - how disposable are people?

In a recently heated debate, two star crossed lovers (read: 54 kms apart) debated the pros and cons of just that sentiment. The estrogen, alive and kickin for over a 1/4 of a century - proposed that people are replaceable. They have to be in order to survive. At least from her limited experiences. Situations have painted her into a corner - into believing that the only people you can't replace in this world are the people you are born with. Ultimately, they are also the only people you can truly trust. Because other people such as friends, acquaintances, shit - boyfriends even, have to be deemed replaceable in order to protect the frail spirited. You see, people who are disposable can't possibly bludgeon your heart and shatter it to smithereens because well, you can replace them before reciting the entirety of the alphabet.

Now, is that horribly jaded or just plain pragmatic?

Does one have to feel obliged to deem someone indispensible/irreplaceable if they happened to love the said other? Can't we just get along by agreeing to disagree?

A tiny voice in one lonely crevice cries out against this blatant stupidity. "Hell no" she screams. "You cannot believe that the love of your life is replaceable"

And then reality kicks in.

I thought my grandma was for eternity and loved her as such. Loved her in ways that only 6 years olds can. And lost her to a context that made absolutely no sense to me. So lesson 1: when you love someone like they are your own they become indispensable - thereby leaving you seriously screwed when they disappear.

You can't blame a girl for self preservation. It might be childish to some - or heck, even most of you - but honestly - inside this twenty something year old woman searching to establish an identity lies that emotionally raw 6 year old. Still clutching on to an imaginary hand that had already let go.

So disposable or not - that's how the story ends.Unfortunately while some of us brave the realities of heartache and admit to never being able to replace or dispose of certain ties that bind...others of us find solace in knowing that only a handful of people in the entire world have the ultimate power to completely annihalate them.

Preservation - good. Extinction - not so much.

Having said that, i sincerely hope that one day that "said other" will become part of my real family - and when that happens - he will bring with him a pod to connect. And while net sharing can be a gloriously generous activity - pod sharing can get quite complicated. So here's me - eager to share my pod and my home with the love of my life all the while knowing that i have just opened myself up to being hurt by 4 more people.

Note to self: Don't fall in love again. This is a deceptively dangerous activity especially for a chicken shit such as said self.

Yet, another dilemma locked into the vault.
God Bless.

P.S. The yorkdale trip left my inner fashionista starving. Stella's stuff was gone within the first half hour of her debut. She was ravenously devoured by a pack of hungry chic wolverines leaving me remnants that couldn't be recycled. Three bikini's and a chain link purse - yup, that's all they left behind. And even that had a waiting list of piranha's willing to bite. Oh well. Adios Stella - we shall meet again. And next time - maybe it will be in person. ;)