As many of you know, my muse and I broke up last year.
I cast no blame, the fault was just as much mine as hers.
She wanted more from me, or perhaps she wanted more than me, but either way the result was the same: harsh words, flashes of anger and disappointment.
The usual stuff.
Don’t get me wrong, she was a good muse – and she promised to make me a great writer – but as good as some people are, they are just no good for each other.
I reminded her that I never aspired to greatness. She reminded me that I never aspired to anything.
We were both wasting each other’s time.
It was not an easy break. She fooled around and I goofed off. We split up, came back together, split up again and finally she stomped out of my writing room and snatched away with the only thing that was dear to both of us.
The pail of chocolate-chip ice cream that I keep hidden in the garage freezer from my diet.
Eventually family and friends urged me to move on – but that is always much harder than it seems and along came COVID, making it impossible to get out and about to meet anyone new, much less a muse.
But in the spirit of everything moving online, I subscribed to a trendy speed dating site called: My Muse and Me.
I had prepared myself for the inevitable slew of rejections, but there was no way one could possibly anticipated the chaff of useless encounters.
Here is a short transcript from the site log.
…
Muse: What’s your genre?
Me: Pisces.
Her: Huh?
Me: Sorry, I haven’t dated since the 60’s and astrological signs were all the rage back then.
Her: Click!
…
Muse: Let’s take a look at your hashtags.
Me: Well, hello to you.
Muse: #writer, #blogger, #humor. Seriously? Not one of those keywords are trending on any SEO platform.
Me: But it is who I am.
Muse: Click!
…
Muse: Are you published?
Me: Nope.
Muse: Click!
…
Muse: r u hot?
Me: Click!
…
And on and on and on. I never knew there was such a wide variety of muses. By sheer will power I managed to put in the hours necessary to harvest a few possibilities – but alas, I suppose it was the way I came across.
The result was always the same.
Click!
Finally…
…
Muse: What are you looking for in a muse?
Me: Someone to have fun with.
Muse: (a little wary) Like how so?
Me: I dunno, just someone who likes to share silly stories.
Muse: and what would you expect from me?
Me: Not much, a bit of feedback and maybe a few clever lines.
Muse: Interesting… What do you have to offer?
Me: A pail of ice cream.
Muse: What flavor?
Me: Chocolate-chip.
She has yet to hang up.
Perhaps she could be the one.
Note: D. Wallace Peach (a fabulous writer and wonderful person) has challenged us to write about our muses. See Meet the Muse (prompt)
Muses have become an ongoing theme both here and at Diane’s Myths in the Mirror.
For the full story (at least from my side) of the contentious relationship between my muse and me, see:
Almost Iowa 
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