Stark reality; it’s really the dog

It’s easy to read stories of recovery; of triumph…especially when you know how it’s going to turn out.  A good friend gave me a book about being a woman “on her own”.  She left a sweet letter, saying how much her friends had helped her during the past few years; also a difficult time in her life. I read the entire book.

I can’t remember what’s in it.

I bet there were stories of overcoming; of getting ahead, of learning to be enough for yourself.  I have an aunt like that. She is 83, swears at old drivers, golfs, bowls, and volunteers at the hospital, attends the expected funerals.  She’s alone; married and divorced three times, she has no doubt outlived all three of her exes.

My dream of last night..I am cozy, wrapped up with a man who I love(d) and in the waking world, am trying not to care about anymore.  There are days when I don’t think much about him now.  He came into my life at a vulnerable time and filled a spot that should have been taken, but really wasn’t.  It proved life changing, and as much “reframing” as my therapist and friends put on our relationship, I’m not at all sure what I got was worth how I changed.

I’m not going to say “what I lost”…although that’s true too.

He’s not coming back. He ought not to.  I sometimes feel I will have to move to the other side of the planet to get him out of my head…other times, I just go to work.   I doubt  very much he even thinks of me.  He is accustomed to abandonment and conversely, abandoning others. It is part of him, and he told me, and I beg anyone who might read this..please believe what others tell you about themselves.

I don’t know this person who inhabits me; she is raw, and angry and easily disappointed.  I wasn’t that way seven years ago. I am jealous of you young women bloggers, moving on so rapidly, with such confidence.

As much as one can write a book filled with vignettes of “overcoming”, there is also a shadow book of loneliness, of knowing that we need to relate to others and intimately…and they need to be in our lives, like regular meals and a good night sleep.  I am not well without it, and deep down, I know it.

As it turns out, the warmth in my bed was my dog.  I love my dog. He’s sweet and not what I need.images

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