Of Gauze and Gossamer

It’s not that I don’t want to write, but so much of my time, my thinking, is entangled with him these days.  I no longer feel comfortable telling you about our interactions.  It’s become a bit more serious and it’s not fair to him to share without his knowledge. But, without this sharing, I have nothing left to say.

Strip away our conversations, our dates, our exchange of ideas, and my musings on him and I am a ghostly, diaphanous creature these days.  That’s frightening.  Can I really lose myself so easily – and only after a few months? He called me a “pleaser” last week.  I bristle at that moniker.  To me, a “pleaser” subjugates their wants and needs for another.  On the contrary – I want to share my delight in the world’s pleasures equally, not one-sidedly. I want to please him – and be pleased in return.

Saturday night found me alone – and feeling LONELY.  What new horror is this?  I’ve spent hundreds of Saturdays alone without a second thought – and now the silence is deafening. I finally retreated to P’s house for some company.

Fear is creeping in again. How can he continue to like me if “I” no longer exist?  I’m trying to find myself – especially the part of me who writes here. I spent yesterday in the back garden, cleaning up the mess the winter has left behind – raking leaves, pulling weeds, cutting back dead plants.  Four and a half hours of this moving meditation.  Tonight, yoga – the greatest tool I know for reconnecting with myself, grounding myself – and hopefully once again finding my substance.

The Making of the Crazy Cat Lady

Last evening, as I got ready for bed, I looked in the mirror and laughed at what I saw.  My bangs, which I pulled back with a black headband, were sticking straight up.  My ensemble consisted of a tan long-sleeved tee shirt covered by a bright blue horizontal striped short-sleeved V-neck shirt, paired with my red and white vertical stripped pajama bottoms and black socks.  Classic!

I realized at that moment that I am past the point of being cohabitationally desirable.  I’ve lived alone with myself too long.  Could I really start coming home, after a ten hour day at work, only to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and Anthropologie blouse every night, open a bottle of wine and whip up dinner?  Could I relearn to pee with the bathroom door shut?  Would it be possible to sleep in a bed that didn’t have the pillows and duvet artfully arranged for my maximum sleeping pleasure? Could I give up my occasional weekend without a shower?

Yes, I am too far gone.  I am but one cat shy of becoming the crazy, bitter, cat lady.

 Now, you kids get off my lawn…shoo!