Alone Again, Naturally
There is something about being alone that makes or breaks you. We are ultimately on our own, even when we are married. It just doesn’t seem like it. I remember looking into the mirror after being single again, and realizing I was seeing me, the person, as I was and not me the wife I was for all those years.
Being in a group of people making plans for Friday night, and not planning on seeking out company other than that in a book or a movie is fine most days. It’s like forging ahead resolutely on some path in the wilderness with a staff and scarcely a water bottle to keep me sustained.
I know the day will come when I’ll want more, and the day will turn into days when I want more, and then I’ll have to fess up to not being content with solitude. For now however, I’ve determined in my own mind that being alone is where I’ll be able to see clearly about where to go from here. If I linger around waiting for someone to lead the way and join forces with me in a new life, it won’t be my life. I’ll be merging and going in the direction because of someone else, and I want to make some choices of my own first.
I guess I just need to be able to move away from this empty landscape called Four Walls and a Funeral, and pick up a paintbrush to create my own original scenery, and not what I was left with after the mess. This estate can survive without me and I without it. Once I pack up and journey out of here, I think I’ll be able to look around and decide I can let down my guard and join the land of the living.
