The Goal is Being Alive

I had been restless, tired of putting up with leftovers. I’d had a lot of second-hand crap. Friends invited me to concerts–if their original date didn’t show. Or sometimes, I stayed in the car while she and a friend met the band and received autographs. It sucked. How did I get into this situation? One day I woke up and realized I wasn’t the first choice in my friend’s life. I was putting more effort into relationships than I was getting. It pissed me off. I’m not the second. When had I started down this path? I didn’t intentionally date taken men or choose friends who didn’t want to hang with me. But it all cracked, and I had enough.

It tested me…

I grew up in a hard-knocks rural lifestyle. If you don’t earn it, you don’t deserve it. Work hard, and take pride in your accomplishments. Park them in the driveway so the neighbors can see. But I was also torn between two worlds. I had earned my old world, the one I left, the mom me. Since I left it, somehow, I no longer had access to the worthiness I had achieved under its umbrella. My ex-husband kept the money. Society withheld the honor.

I couldn’t square the old with the new world I entered. In this modern world, I was a penniless, lonely, divorced female. I didn’t like this person I had become. I was sad and unfulfilled. I lived only to make it another day.

On the advice of a therapist, I planned to make some solo journeys. It seemed reasonable. It would be time away from toxic relationships, and I could readjust my expectations. Recalibrate. Learning to feel good on your own isn’t easy, but that was the plan. Solo Journeys. At least, it was the door I kept trying to go enter. Heaven is my witness; I tried. 

The universe or God had a surprise. I met someone who liked doing the same things I enjoyed – hiking, drinking coffee, etc. I could do it alone. I was willing to prove I could. But maybe I’ve done enough. I don’t know. One thing I’m learning is that not everything is accomplished through hard work and pounding on doors. maybe I’ve done enough. I don’t know. I’m adoring my journeys currently. I’m making peace with my life. I’m alive.

Going Solo​

This is it. I’m doing it. A Solo journey. Not Hans, although there could be an adventure. I’ve been feeling an itch to travel since before last year’s trip to France. Thank you to my kids by the way. That was a fantastic vacation. I want more!

My greatest fantasy would be to round up all of my friends and hang out in one location, but that doesn’t work well in real life. And I, oh, I don’t venture out alone. The introvert in me doesn’t even like the grocery store. Exercise outside with people? No, I do my walks early in the morning. Airports? People? Are you kidding me? Someone had better be getting married.

It’s not easy being single and I’ve been alone for quite a while. Hook-ups and two-month flings don’t count. Emotional support, backup for decisions, help with finances, hugs in the middle of the night, or just someone to share a stupid joke, these are the things couples have.

I’ve tried to make each relationship work, but it’s been square pegs and round holes. I guess people who wish to enjoy my company will do so, and they will be at ease. And maybe I have to first be at ease with myself. So I’m going to learn to be alone. Small excursions are first. Eventually, I will venture further. I have always wanted to travel.

Loneliness is an abyss. It will swallow you if you let it. Consume you. At times its grasp is comforting. Waiting for someone to be your friend while you soak in that loneliness is the torment of an unforgiving inferno.

No one holds the key to my hell. I do.