why stop now?
As I was walking home from the co-op tonight with my eggs and my soymilk and the sweet cards I bought impulsively, I was thinking how it's my job right now to be alone. First, I was congratulating myself for getting through the afternoon without drinking any beer. Because drinking beer was certainly very appealing as I wallowed in my depression today. But I made myself stick it out, no beer, taking it moment to moment, just choosing each moment to wait till the next moment to decide whether or not I would drink, and then deciding in each succeeding moment not to. It was good.
So, then, I was walking home very sober having these thoughts about being alone. And really, how alone am I? SK may be on the other side of the world, but we've either talked or emailed or both every single day since she's been gone (except just a couple of very quiet days with no contact at all). In fact, not only did I wake up to three awesome emails from SK this morning, and not only did she call me just a little while ago, but I *also* had a big, weird bubble-envelop from Australia in my mailbox today. It was awesome! Packed with the strangest, most aromatic assortment of earthy bits -- I turned it up on my desk and out dumped unrecognizable seed-pods and cones, fragrant leaves, colorful parrot feathers and a plastic container of honey, complete with a square honeycomb (b/c I am her honeycomb, don'tcha know) -- of course, the honey had slipped its bounds a little and everything was sort of sticky, but what an awesome package! A package that only a hippie could send. God bless her little, hippie soul. :-) (SK, you're awesome.)
Ok, my point, is that even though I'm "alone," I'm only just *so* alone. In many ways, I'm not alone at all. But in other, extremely important ways, I *am* alone. I'm learning to have my day to day life as a completely independent individual. I'm ashamed to admit that, at 31, this is my first time completely solo. I've always had girlfriends, or overly involved housemates, I even lived with my mom for ten months after college. And then there was my voided marriage to CB. Now here I am, after all this time, waking up in the morning alone. Going to bed at night alone. Cooking my meals alone. Cleaning my bathroom because *I* want it to be clean. Doing my dishes because *I* want the dishes done. Tending my plants and planting my little tomato and riding the bus to work and deciding whether to go to a movie or walk to the coffeeshop. All me. It's my job, right now, to learn how to do this stuff without freaking out or hiding out or drinking beer every time I start feeling sad or overwhelmed. Tonight is a good start.
So, then, I was walking home very sober having these thoughts about being alone. And really, how alone am I? SK may be on the other side of the world, but we've either talked or emailed or both every single day since she's been gone (except just a couple of very quiet days with no contact at all). In fact, not only did I wake up to three awesome emails from SK this morning, and not only did she call me just a little while ago, but I *also* had a big, weird bubble-envelop from Australia in my mailbox today. It was awesome! Packed with the strangest, most aromatic assortment of earthy bits -- I turned it up on my desk and out dumped unrecognizable seed-pods and cones, fragrant leaves, colorful parrot feathers and a plastic container of honey, complete with a square honeycomb (b/c I am her honeycomb, don'tcha know) -- of course, the honey had slipped its bounds a little and everything was sort of sticky, but what an awesome package! A package that only a hippie could send. God bless her little, hippie soul. :-) (SK, you're awesome.)
Ok, my point, is that even though I'm "alone," I'm only just *so* alone. In many ways, I'm not alone at all. But in other, extremely important ways, I *am* alone. I'm learning to have my day to day life as a completely independent individual. I'm ashamed to admit that, at 31, this is my first time completely solo. I've always had girlfriends, or overly involved housemates, I even lived with my mom for ten months after college. And then there was my voided marriage to CB. Now here I am, after all this time, waking up in the morning alone. Going to bed at night alone. Cooking my meals alone. Cleaning my bathroom because *I* want it to be clean. Doing my dishes because *I* want the dishes done. Tending my plants and planting my little tomato and riding the bus to work and deciding whether to go to a movie or walk to the coffeeshop. All me. It's my job, right now, to learn how to do this stuff without freaking out or hiding out or drinking beer every time I start feeling sad or overwhelmed. Tonight is a good start.
posted by reasonably prudent poet at 10:18 PM
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