Solo

On occasion I feel lonely. I am generally an independent woman, I run my own business, I live in my house, mow my own lawn, drive my own car. But there are sometimes when I would really like to be in some sort of committed relationship with some fabulous man who is not intimidated by my independence and bullheadedness. Who would be there when I feel like a little girl and need someone's shoulder to cry on, when I awake in the middle of the night terrified that something retched has just happened to be there to look me in the eye and tell me its alright. When those feelings of desperation grip me, when I feel terribly and utterly alone what am I to do?
I instantly start thinking of all the men in my life. The ones I said no to, should I have said yes? The ones who wanted to control me like a shrew, the ones who turned out to be mere boys, not men. Then I think of my friends and their "other halves" would I have the patience to make something work? Are they really happy sacrificing part of themselves for the other? Then like a breath of spring air, just after it rains, you know the clean earth and cool breeze, a man sweeps in and states an interest in me, little ol' me, and suddenly I wouldn't care that I might have to give up some of my dreams, maybe a few small ones to be with this person, a person who I cared for a long time, without knowing it was reciprocated. The emotions that had flooded me were so marvelous and joyful. Then to have it stolen away again, without an explanation, without a word, without a single utterance.
Again I must prepare myself for being alone for the rest of my life, just when I had tossed the rag aside. Just when I thought there might be some slight hope of togetherness in my future. So I bear myself up, I say "that's ok, it wouldn't have worked anyhow." So now I go on, I scoop up the dead bird, I talk myself out of being afraid, I buckle down and work extra long hours and eat cereal for dinner. I move on into the future, saying I'll be fine to live alone, to Christmas alone, to have a future alone, to die alone. On the outside showing a face that doesn't scar, on the inside crying out in fear, that I will be alone, that I won't know the joy of companionship, that there will be no togetherness, that there will be no marvelous arguments about what color to paint the bathroom, that I will never know why it feels good to sacrifice for the other, to never watch the sunset in another's arms, to never be gifted a rose of deep scarlet, to never wear a silly ring, to never comfort another's pain, to never have someone to cook for, to never have to clean another's socks.
I tell myself that I can make it through this world with a few close friends and I'll be fine. But deep deep down there is not a cell in me that wants the solo life. I want to be in an eternal duet, so that way whatever may happen, good or bad there will be someone to lean on and someone for me to support, that fabulous give and take is what I want. Where tomorrow arises with shared joy, where his sadness, love, passion, hope would be mine as well.
For now though, I am alone. And I must accept this. For now I have to be the big independent woman not desperate for a man. For desperation leads to rash, fear-driven decisions that only end in pain. For now I must be strong, stronger than most men that I know. But I have to hope that one day, maybe someday I will meet the man I love, who is big and strong, and who I will do my best to keep him for all eternity, so that in this life and the next I will never be alone.