Or the Chords...
Random thoughts tumble through my head, for hours and hours now. I could try some deep focused breathing and stretches I guess, but I'm not.
I cried a little, I might cry a little more. Sometimes feelings just get raw and stretched and sore.
Sometimes when I fee this way I can't help but find my mind drifting to some story in the bible. Tonight I thought of Ruth. I often think of her. I could never understand how when she clung to Naomi and went with her to her home, how could she patiently do as Naomi told her? How could she work in the fields gleaning and wait? How could she wait for Boaz to notice her? How could she avoid noticing the young men in the fields with her in her loneliness? How could she follow Naomi's instruction?
John's death shifted something in me. Something so big I can't even identify it. All I know is I am changed. I respond to nearly everything differently now. I'm more aware of myself, for all the good it does me.
I understand Ruth more now. That loss, and mine was a loss whatever the details that made it less of one to others, changed me. I'm grateful for it, but I'm lost too, or maybe just so different I hardly recognize myself. I don't want John. I don't want anything like that again. I don't want people in my life like that ever again. So I watch. I'm patient in the moment. Maybe that is what Ruth did too. Not that Ruth was trying to avoid people that were like the people that have so long surrounded me and no longer do...but then, maybe that is why Ruth clung to Naomi. She had nothing to go back to. Perhaps like me, details aside, in her loss she wised up too.
But right now...right now I'm completely aware of my loneliness. My sons can't bridge it. The stuffed walrus I'd rescued back when I was bar tending, the one my youngest named Beaver when he was little is my only comfort. I'd like to kick my cat out of the house, for good. He's annoying and despicable. The Walrus aka Beaver and the Despicable Cat can't bridge it.
When I feel this way things hurt that normally I wouldn't even think about, that I'd even find myself relieved to know. Like a male friend that likes me, wondering if he's in someone's bed tonight he'd met for dinner. In truth I don't want him, but when I am like this I question. I worry I'll lose someone else I have let myself trust. Silly
Yet, I don't want to be held so badly that I let myself settle, or force him to, just because he's nice (to my knowledge to this point) just to hold off this feeling. It doesn't just come at night. I doesn't just come over me when I am finding myself challenged in my resolve to move forward. It clings to me, fluttering around the core of me. It's a part of me now. Somehow it feels as though it is here now for a purpose, but whatever length of time it will reside in me, reside in me it does. It is a constant. Sometimes muted, but sometimes it grows large. The nagging ache that suddenly it is the only thing felt, the only thing I can be aware of.
I suppose I am not ready. In these moments, I wonder if I will ever be. Looking at the full moon in my mind. The lonely rabbit leaping backwards.
I don't believe a person will make me happy. Believe it or not, through my struggles and loneliness I am happy, in a sense. I like my own company. I like my sons company. I like my friends and acquaintances.
I just want more. I want a partner. I just don't understand why it is I have to feel like I am admitting some weakness. I don't understand why I am built with this want, with the understanding I am worth it and the sense it is sometimes far from me, sometimes right within reach but I can't see it yet.
What is in my make up, this archaic waiting. I used to look for it, try to make it happen. Didn't Ruth sort of do that? What are my examples? People I know and admire? The Bible? My Mother? Pardon me while I swallow the vomit that just hit the back of my throat. She is a corruption. Her chosen person, chosen every day. As for the others, they hang there coaxing me ever forward. They guide me and influence me not to settle. They push me to be...
What am I?
I am changed. To what?
I cried a little, then a little more. I wondered at how I have no idea what tomorrow will be and yet I strain after it. Tonight I will likely sleep, at some point. Rise before the sun and start tomorrow. I feel confident enough that I will wake as I am apparently quite fit, so unless something catastrophic happens...
What is tomorrow?
A hope for things not yet seen? A hope for things not yet known?
Where does this hope spring from...
I guess it doesn't matter really. This is a moment where the flutter, the sound of it, overwhelms the voice within that keeps me positive. It acknowledges how tired I feel sometimes. Keep moving forward. Keep moving forward. Don't be afraid to work harder. Go on with your life, no waiting now! And then, like tonight, this other thing rises up craving comfort so acutely.
Anyway, goodnight. No more thinking with my keyboard.
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