Can I just be real? OK, here goes.
So last night I took a trip down to a nearby town to purchase a dog crate I found on Craigslist. I only had to travel about 12 miles, but the ride felt more like 50. This is why.I hope you can follow me. I can be twisty,
As I snaked along the pretty green countryside, I passed through memories. They weren’t of the actual landscape I was seeing along the way, but reminders of the real ones. The grassy hills & flats, big long-suffered shade trees, ponds, an old abandoned school (why are they so creepy?), mobile homes like the one I was raised in, cows, dilapidated barns, restored old farmhouses. And of course, all the new gorgeous neighborhoods freshly built & calling for someone to call them home. It’s strange what can trigger memories & bring them up from the great beyond of me.
I thought about home, where I grew up. The notion that we take for granted when we are young that a meal magically appears on the table each night, a roof covers us that we aren’t paying for, clothes & sheets are clean, holes are patched & buttons sewn. Playing out under those big ol’ trees without a care. Dirt piles, mud pies & sticks & leaves & laughter. Being loved without performing. Being free, and it was free. And there I sit, grown up & 44 years young. And Mom & Dad and my brother are all gone now. And I’m wishing they weren’t.
Fast forwarding, I thought about the many sunny afternoons traveling in the car with my ex & how we used to ride through new neighborhoods & dream – maybe, just maybe one day. We had it all figured out, back before we were no more. And last night, there I was, traveling in the car looking at familiar unfamiliar places, alone. And wishing I wasn’t.
I thought about how easy it would be to be with someone, sometimes just for the night so I wouldn’t have to feel this honest-to -God-help-me ache that I have that just won’t go away. But I can’t let myself do that. I have before & it only ever further drives home the obvious. I thought about how I’ve been judged for my loneliness, probably the very most vulnerable thing about me. In fact, I know it is. How it has made me behave sometimes. How desperate it has made me feel at times. I thought about how I know, I truly do, that God is supposed to fill that void while I wait for my man-pie in the sky. And how I stumble along, grappling with letting Him be that for me. Some days I get an A, others surely an F. But the great thing is I know He loves me regardless. Being loved without performing. Being free, and it’s still free.
I have so much to be thankful for, and I am. I am blessed. Things could always be worse.I know this. I really, really know it. I also know I am not meant to be single. And it gets really, really lonely in the waiting. That piece of just-right-for-me hay is in the haystack somewhere, I know it. But I can’t see it. Not yet. That’s what faith is, right?
Sure, it has its perks, don’t get me wrong. But right now I don’t want to talk about the perks. I want to whine. I want to cry, and last night I did. In the car, with the radio off & the memories riding shotgun. Not the bad ones, just the good ones. The ones I could feel, inhale & swim in. And the same ones that almost drown me when they descend upon me unexpectedly, like they did. And another blog is born.
If you are nodding your head along as you read this & you understand me all too well, then I am thankful – because that means neither of us is alone, not at least right now. We are linked & kindred souls, trying to find peace & hope & a soft spot to rest in our angst.
Give yourself permission to feel whatever you are feeling. Give yourself grace that you aren’t perfect & that you haven’t handled this single-dom like someone else did, seemingly so much more gracefully. It’s ok to cry sometimes and admit you are lonely. It passes & great things come along to distract you. Like blood-thicker-than-water family. Like the smell of rain & friends that love you just like you are. Friends that encourage you up, up, up. And tell man-hating jokes that are hilarious but neither of you really believe them. Life can just really suck & laughter is just good medicine. And the young woman’s baby girl in the check-out line who can’t take her big brown eyes off you. Because you are just that fabulous. Like even she can see that someone somewhere out there has been waiting their whole life for you. Yes, you. The faith of a child. Dang straight Skippy. I just encouraged myself if nothing else. Hey, I’ll take it.
Here’s to keeping it real & our hope alive while we are sometimes – just sometimes – pitifully lonely. ❤
With much love,