Tears Again... Fears Again...

I just get worried sometimes that it’s going to be such a lonely life for me.

Not lonely as in “alone,” because I can’t imagine not being utterly surrounded by friends and family, and even the strangers I meet each day usually connect with me on some level or another.

But lonely.

Lonely for me is having a host of invitations for the holiday weekend, but in choosing to rest at home, there is no one else here to kiss my hand absent-mindedly as we waste the day watching Netflix in bed.

Lonely is making the big plans and dreams for my life, and not having that one person along on the journey, watching the progress as well as the setbacks, loving me through it all.

Lonely is preparing a meal full of love and flavor, pouring a glass of wine, and sitting on the floor to eat at the coffee table, that I might at least sit with my dog and share with him the food leftover from never learning how to cook for one instead of two.

Lonely is this tear that just fell from my eye to my wrist.

I admonish my own self-pity. My blessings are too great, my luck improving, abundance increasing. I feel I have no right to complain... and what good will it do anyway? Reality is: I have crafted this life all on my own. I have made the choices. I reap the rewards, which never come without some sacrifice.... but love? Partnership?

Tears again... Fears again... Is it simply not possible that I could be so loved, even as I am so free?

My experience says “no.” In the past, to have the love, each time and in different ways, I was forced to relinquish that freedom. I sacrificed my music, my choices, my ideas, my dreams. Of course, it could never work thusly, and it never did. So I have learned from those experiences that, above all, I must remain true to myself and my path. I like my self, and my path. I am generally overflowing with pure joy, passion for my work, gratitude for all that has been bestowed upon me. Blissed and blessed, I always say. And after my divorce, I have resolved that to welcome love into my life again, it must be a love that wants and accepts me exactly as I am today.

Tears again... Fears again... Does that love exist for me?

I was encouraged as of late that indeed, it just may! Opened myself to love, in the right way, the smart and healthy way, and stayed on course with who I am, and where I’m at and where I’m headed. Loving purely, with integrity, thick with kindness and care, and benevolent freedom, just as it should be.

Yet, today I feel overlooked, or swept aside maybe, because of current circumstances in part, but also because of who I am and what I do. He called me a “gypsy,” and in his voice the connotation suggested I am too wild, too free, unable to settle down or grow up or whichever direction you’re supposed to go to be deemed worthy of love.

Is there a direction for love? Were they handing out road maps that I missed?

Of course, all of these qualities I inherently possess are the very ones I hear men express desire most for in a woman: fidelity, honesty, good communicator, loving, passionate, affectionate, intelligent, talented, beautiful, self-sufficient, socially graceful. I am not jealous or controlling. I like alone time, and grant it as well. I’m good with kids, and parents. I am optimistic and upbeat. I have a great laugh....

I don’t think it’s so easy to find a woman with so much to offer.

Tears again.... Fears again... Is there another quality inherent to my nature that makes me UN-qualifiable?

I’ve asked. I’ve gotten answers. None of them the same, but all leading back to the same point, which is that:

I cannot have love without being true to myself... and yet, so far, by being true to myself, I have not had that love.

So, as I suck up snot and wipe the mascara-caked tear streaks from my cheeks, I feel my skin stiffening, my armor thickening, my blood cooling. It’s been easier getting by under the facade of superhuman power-woman who is self-possessed and a goddess to all, rather than the vulnerable little girl who cries for impossible love, and just really REALLY wishes her daddy were here to hug her and remind her that to him, she was the most amazing thing in the world.

So, I have to remind myself:

I am amazing. And I’m working hard to be more amazing each and every day. Someday, someone might just come along and figure that out, and be giving thanks for the blessing of me in his life.

And if not, well, it’s still an amazing life. No matter how lonely it sometimes feels.

And I give thanks for the blessing of me in my life.

And even if that love never finds me, I am love. I have so very much to give.

No tears now, no fears. No what-if’s about what may or may not be. Reeling it in, back to the present moment where all my needs are met, and a beloved friend just sent a random note of kindness, and dog and cat have both invited themselves to my bed to whisk my tears away and lend me their physical support.

But I thank you for listening, and for loving.

I love you.