I have to admit to there being some evidence that my hard work in making the effort to make changes in my mind is paying off. This is what I wrote:
Alone. The truth of it is, we all come into this life alone; and we will all leave it alone. No hand holding, no arm linking, no massive “waves” in the football stadiums. Alone.
It’s great when we can and do participate lovingly with one another; and it can be equally great when we find ourselves in our element, faces wreathed in smiles tilted toward the sun. Just we ourselves, alone.
I’m not sure of the date, but it was in February of this year (2017). I’ve been “boobing” (crying in the fashion in which multitudes of the mucus held within the portals, caves, and subterranean tunnels behind the skin of the face multiply and multiply seemingly without end) without any end in sight for far more than a good portion of my life.
If ever there was anything I both wanted and believed I deserved in my life, it was that I deserved a good man to love me. Feel free to attach any welcome accouterments to that that serve you if you’re relating to me just now.
Of course, I AM speaking of what I knew consciously at what I’ve come to realize now had to have been a very primitive level. I’ve written in several locations how my best friend and I became best friends spending overnights together and talking endlessly of a third grade boy (we were third graders, too) who rode her bus home. Whenever I’d go to her home to spend the night, he’d surely feel drained by the surreptitious, giggly glances of two most unwelcome spies in the form of the silliest classmates he never knew. He reigned supreme in both our lives and our friendship.
It’s only as a good sport (likely story) that I disclose to you now that it took a catfish experience a little over a year ago for me to realize my repetitive pattern of managing to draw to me the same profile of man, commonly referred to as “silent man”. The face of Barney Fife (The Andy Griffith Show) comes immediately to mind as I attempt to describe the degree of flummoxed I was to realize, by parading through in my mind all the men I could remember attaching to romantically in my life, how true that was.
Somehow (and this surely required Divine Intervention) as I’ve been reapplying my efforts to change my life, I have come to accept that for me to do with the remainder of my life what I so adamantly desire to do, I need to accept I’m going to be on my own. No more caterwauling over how most of the other women I know have great and loving partners and how that’s the way it should be for me. It hasn’t panned out well despite how good a howl I’m capable of.
This is major for me. Thus I created the “alone” words as a backdrop for my Facebook wall. No forgetting now.