Subtle Glow

While I recovered from surgery last weekend, one of my closest friends* was kind enough to clear her schedule and make arrangements not only to drive me to and from the hospital, but to stay with me afterwards to make sure I was ok.

What started out to be one, maybe two nights (the night before and maybe the night after) turned into three nights. Her - with two children who are not old enough to stay home alone, and a husband who works the graveyard shift - made all these arrangements (and some of them were really last minute) so she could be there with me. She wanted to make sure I would be ok.

THAT is love!

To tell the truth, I didn’t want to be alone either. Not because I was worried about taking care of myself - we knew I could manage on my own if I had to do that.
I realized after she left: I am lonely. Not the kind of sad, woe is me I’m all alone lonely - where you go to bed and cry and then eat ice cream while you watch the saddest lonely heart chick flick in the world and stay on the couch in your pajamas all day. Or worse: you do all that but you watch Lifetime movies back to back and wish your cable provider had the Oxygen channel.

This was more of a realization that “Hey, you know what? I miss having another adult around to occupy space in the house.”

My son’s father and I separated when he was about 10 or 11 months old. Yes, I did say MONTHS. From then, and for the next 5 years and a handful of months, I was alone. No dates. No boyfriends. No partners. Not even roommates.

It was not because I swore off men for good. Not at all. It just sort of… happened. Also, I wasn’t really interested in dating and all that bullshit. I did make a couple half-hearted attempts with online dating.  Ultimately I found it to be more of a chore rather than any fun, so I stopped.  Part of the point is having fun, right?  I wasn’t having fun.
But that’s not what this is about anyway. I’m getting away from my point.
In all that time, I came more and more to believe that I really liked being on my own. I preferred it at times, too.

Of course there were times when I felt lonely. When I wanted someone to curl up with on the couch, to roll their eyes at the movies with me, to make me smile and blush when I admit that “Yes - I DO watch Veronica Mars. Every week. And not just for the edgy theme song, ok?”

But I never imagined having that someone there with me, every day, sharing all the stuff you share when you have a life together.

I come home from work and I struggle with what to make for dinner and ask myself how bad of a mom would I be if I just made cereal or ordered pizza, again?

A lot of last weekend was spent alternating between resting and getting up and around. Bodies in motion… etc. In the period of time where my friend was left to her own devices, she was totally cool with it and did her own thing. It wasn’t like I had to stay up and make sure she was entertained. I could go take a nap for a couple hours if I wanted. When I got up, I was never met with that look that said, “Oh FINALLY you’re up… please entertain me, or talk to me, or something!”

I guess that’s the sort of comfort I would expect from someone you live with every day. I realized after she left that I missed that. It took almost seven years, but I’m finally there.  I’ve grown so accustomed to just having me and the kiddo.  I miss having another adult around to share my day with, or to just BE there even if there’s no interaction at that moment.

I don’t want to grow old alone.  I want a someone that I can grow old with together.

I don’t really know what to do with all of this right now.  I think the initial shock of the realization still hasn’t worn off just yet.  I don’t even know what there is TO do, you know?
*First time I’ve ever directly linked her to this blog, btw, so I have to stop for just a sec and wave hello to her.  “HEY!!!”  **smooches**