The Red Curtains

I knew the moment I saw them. There, in the entrance of my yoga studio, was a cloud of dazzling red curtains, framing the doorway. I felt like I was walking into Aladdin's bedroom.

One look and I already knew they were mine.

It's funny how you can look at something and know that. Up until recently, I've only felt that way about drapery.

The day after I saw those curtains, I went right to Target to purchase some. I walked in the door with the full intention of leaving with the exact curtains I spotted. No other color, no other style, nothing. I also knew that I didn't want to pay $20 a panel.

After thumbing through several rows of fabric, I still hadn't found my curtains. But there, in the bottom of the pile, buried beneath fabric the color of cotton candy and lemons, I saw them. The 100% same curtains. On clearance for $6.48. For two of them!

I'm a big believer in fate and in the universe providing exactly what you ask for. The curtains seem such an obvious example of love. With love, you have to know exactly what you want. You can't take whatever is on top of the pile, or something that's on sale but is in a color you hate. That's not the point. The point is walking into the universe knowing precisely what you will and will not accept. And refusing to leave until you get exactly that. The universe is your fabric store.

When I saw Blondie, I knew he was my red curtain. I asked the universe for a funny, good looking, intelligent, well traveled foodie who doesn't want kids (and possibly marriage), and that's exactly what I got. And I got him on the tails of heartache, when the man I was falling head over heels for didn't want me because we didn't share the same dream. He was sort of like a burgundy curtain. Really close, but not right for my walls.

And here is Blondie, standing in front of me, the perfect shade of red. The same size, the same texture, the same everything. It's proof positive that sometimes, the very thing you're looking for may not always be visible. Sometimes, you have to dig through a lot to find it.

I haven't taken the curtains out of the package yet. They're lying on my floor, half of the bag opened. Same with Blondie. I'm not ready to open everything. Just one piece at a time. That's always been my mistake, anyway. I just grab a package, rip it open and take whatever is inside.

This time, I'm going to take my time displaying things. I can't wait, though. I know the room is going to look gorgeous.