I am struggling out here in cyberspace. Sure, I could log onto somewhere to connect with others-as if online is a reality?
I can't help but think who I am , although I never really believed I was offensive, is lacking. Since cyberspace is this empty, bottomless void, full of words, like a vortex, I can write just about anything I like and it won't bounce. Kind of an interesting thought.
No reflection. I am not sure that is such a good thing.
I am experiencing about the loneliest time in my life.
I am trying to figure this out. It isn't easy without 1) evaluating my behaviors and wondering if even though my past has been full of people, maybe I didn't choose wisely, or, the world is full of mean manipulative people-that I seem attracted too.
I don't know but I am seeking answers so I can change my behaviors and my perceptions.
Perhaps going over the edge isn't a bad thing. Most of us spend our entire lives staying to themiddleof the road we don't even know what the edge looks like,
and I can tell you the precipice is wide and deep and the only thing I seem to face is myself.
I can't help but wonder at age fifty I will never make love again? God I miss it. Not sex with someone I don't know. That isn't any kind of release, just makes me feel more alone.
The kind of sex I want is knowing every inch of a man's body. Crooked toes and all.
The scent of his sleep. The softness of the skin on the underside of his arm. The knowledge of his body -the kind of knowledge that isn't familiar but curious.
I have made myself busy-too busy to connect with men-and often too busy to connect with others.
I am not sure this is loneliness even though sometimes I feel lonely. This time and space feels more like time to reflect. Some of that choice out of fear of making another mistake again, some trying to step back and look at how I interact with others. I have spent most of my life pleasing others. Ingrained into my psyche. Doormat. Responsible. Dependable. Predictable.
I couldn't say that when I was younger. Always going for the relationship in which I could create the most drama.
As I matured that got old. The message I interpreted was to be easy going. No high maintenance. Understanding and supportive.
Ironic that when I began to behave that way I had a ten year relationship with a man who cheated and lied-but that isn't really the point. The intersting point about our relationship was that I decided to be understadning and loving ANYWAY.
Ironially, he is one of my closest friends.
Who wouldn't want a friend who is reliable and faithful, and not judging.
Doormat.
I don't want this to be the end of passion, love and friendship.
I really don't.
I mourn the loss.
Yet I am not willing to pursue those paths which will provide opportunities, either.
Ah, shit. Ah shit. Bounce that around, cyberspace...
