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August 21, 2006

While we're on the subject.

Oh I was going to write something here about my cat, or how for the first time in WEEKS I took the bus this morning and was adequately prepared enough for the experience that I managed to bring both my ipod AND knitting bag and knitted at least twenty whole rows on a scarf (not too shabby, pre-coffee), and maybe some other thing about that time I went to that one place.

Well. Tomorrow is another day.

Because I was thinking about something. I do understand sometimes, especially in an online diary, one might get slightly nervous if one suspects the author has become a woman who sits all alone in a room feeling lonely and sad and cutting up pictures from Bride magazine and waiting desperately to get married.

So! Hello! Let me assure you I am not sitting locked in a room with four cats and a jug of wine and a stack of glossy bridal magazines, scissors poised above in a psycho-esque manner while Patsy belts it out on the stereo.

The simple truth is there are days (mostly nights) when I get lonely and I want love in my life. In my weak moments I confess my loneliness to you like penance. Sometimes I would give my right arm for someone to hold onto me real tight and watch TV, or make dinner, or do nothing at all. My fantasies are so tiny: having someone hug you from behind as you wash a plate, holding hands, tucking your toes under someone's leg as you sit on the sofa, tiny completely small things. I wouldn't say this is an all-day-every-day feeling. It comes in waves, especially right after Drew leaves or after I visit with my family because it's so nice to have someone in my house, someone to talk to, someone who loves and understands me.

Used to be that any emotion even slightly unpleasant would make me want to run for cover, I would do anything to make it go away. This is why we vacationed so much, and went into debt doing it. When I was married and lonely (and yes, ya'll are right, that is the worst kind of alone) I would vaccuum the whole house top to bottom including the toaster and the silverware drawer just to stay occupied. I can remember waking up on a Saturday or Sunday morning and stripping all the linens off the beds, washing every single towel and pillow case and sock in the entire house just out of the sheer need to stay in motion, too busy to think about how I felt inside.

But here is what I have learned: There is no action item, no to-do list, there is nothing at all that has to be done with the way I feel. I do not have to hide from it, or run, or make it go away, or keep my chin up, or do anything with bootstraps, or be anything but what I am that very minute.

It's perfectly OK to just sit with a thing.

Getting divorced was clearly not the happy ending I had envisioned for my marriage, but man alive I have learned some things. I learned how to really feel something, even something unpleasant, and still get up the next morning and do my hair and go to work and look forward to life because this feeling, however awful and uncomfortable, is just something you breathed through and you did not break and you're just human anyway. And tomorrow really is another day.

You just kind of need some loving sometimes. And that is a-okay. And luckily you aren't cutting out pictures of brides in fat, shiny wedding magazines and planning a hope chest and dressing your cats in small bridal party replica gowns.

Although that would be kind of funny, and something to really write about on a Monday morning.


Posted by laurie at August 21, 2006 10:10 AM