Party Of One...

I make no apology for the honesty presented... This is me. This is what I want and how I feel.     

           There is one sobering and somber fact in my life and yet at times, it is so up lifting to me. I guess it’s the times when I really want to share a special part of my day that I really feel it somberly. Those times when I can’t wait to get home to talk about my day and…. Nothing.  I could call someone but it’s not the same sometimes. Stories are much better in person and much better in the moment. Facial expressions and body language are shared experiences that make sharing yourself that much more personal. And there are the times when I am singing and dancing around the kitchen that I want someone to join in with me and... Nothing. So, what’s the uplifting part? I’m 38 and have become a very successful person in my world. I never thought I’d get here let alone how far I have come. From a shy girl who could barely stand on her own two feet. To a strong and independent woman who owns and maintains her own home. How may can actually say they were able to do this? Not many and for that I am proud… And tired. I love the life that I have for all the success and all the hard work that I have put into it and continue to put into it. I'm not intersted in giving up... Just interested in sharingmy whole self with someone. And yet, this house is big and empty on the somber days when I am a reluctant party of one it would seem.

                I never intended it to be this way and I should say, I don’t intend on ending life this way either. And while I had plans to be two (or more) and I still have plans to be two (or more), for now I am a party of one. This is not to say that I have not tried. I’ve experienced many wonderful relationships and met some good guys. I hold no regrets for they have all taught me something. I do wonder, am I being too… Something? Too open at times. Too talkative. Not talkative enough. Not open enough. I get caught up in the excitement of the new and I literally forget that this is a marathon and not a sprint. Whenthe sprint burns out and the pace goes from lightening fast to... Nothing and stand still, my heart sinks. And then the next thing I know, I am a party of one… Again. At my age, I should be OK with this and truthfully, at times I am and I’ll fight it all the way at the same time. Of course there have been those that have cheated. More disturbing are those that have just stopped talking to me. Not for lack of trying as I had tried to keep talking to them. I get worn down and eventually stop in a really humiliating… Blaze of glory? No, more like a whimper. It’s really disconcerting when this happens and it shakes me to the core of my being. I'm confident but it does not mean that I cannot be hurt. I can compartmentalize things until I am OK again. Put people in their respective boxes and place them on my mental shelf. I hate this. But sometimes it's all I can do to get going again. Mostly because I do the old what if I… Insert action here. Of course I don’t usually do the what if I… Because I just get so tired of putting myself out there.  So, what if for a change, I pull back and wait? What if for a change, to not do the usual talkative song and dance and it garners some pretty amazing results. What if for a change, I’m no longer a party of one at the end of the unusual and uncomforatble change to my routine? I'm patient... And sensable at the same time. I'm not getting any younger and there is a clock ticking.

                Again, I bounce between the fairy tale and the modern novel. I’m a strong and independent woman. This I have told you before. I’ve also said that it will be the death of me. I love who I have become. I have a very successful career and I am really good at what I do. I'm truly an understanding, patient and flexable woman (in every sense). I can adapt and go with the flow in any relationship or situation. Once I get there and get comfortable. I don't like the games and I don't like drama. I just want to be and when it comes down to it, I would not have myself live any other way… Except for someone special to share it with. I can take care of myself and this house that I live in. Did I also mention that with the exception of student loans, my debt is miniscule and I pay it off each month? Financially solid I am. I can do a lot of things on my own. Truth is, I’ve had a lot of people tell me that they’ll help me with this or with that. No one’s really stuck around to actually do anything about it. So, I do a lot… On my own. Because I want to. Because I need to. And because I have to. No one else is going to take care of things around here for the time being, I’m a party of one that is wielding a mop or some kind of power tool and I would nto have it any other way… For the most part. Except for the fact that now I have a hard time believing when people say that they'll stick around. Since well, so many have not. So, I build up my independence to live off of instead of fall back on. And without that special person, I am just surviving. Wishing on stars, eyelashes, and 11:11 and hoping that the fairy tale comes true. I continue to put myself out there no matter how humiliating it is. One of these days, it's going to be for good.

                See, I want the fairy tale too… I want someone to cook me dinner or surprise me with my favorite purple roses for no good reason other than to see me smile. I want someone to allow me to collapse into them and just be myself. When I am sick, I want them to take care of me instead of push me away. When I am sad, I want them to hold me instead of telling me to deal with it on my own. I want someone that will text me out of the blue just to make me smile as well as call me at night and wish me sweet dreams when we are not together. I want someone that will just come over here and just be with me. I’ve had glimpses of this man and he is beautiful inside and out. I only wish that he would come back to me and scoop me up and tell me that I don’t have to do it on my own any more. That all this silly ranting is just that... Ranting. And I don't have to be on my own anymore. And I'm still waiting... Foolishly or not, the universe will act soon. KNowing what I know and what I feel, I will put the work into things. Even if that means waiting through uncomfortable silence and abandoned words. On my sickest days, this is the sobering thought: That I have to do another day on my own. That when in the dead of winter, I have to shovel myself out for the millionth storm and I just can’t do it anymore. The fairytale, for me, was never a party of one. It was a party of two (or more).