I am a misfit. I always have been...and always will be. I am a throwback to another time. And to evolved for this one. I am a romantic. A true romantic. Whether it be the trashy romance novels that I have been reading since I was twelve and writing for almost as long. Or the idealistic way that I see the world and the people in it. I love being different. I love being me. But it is lonely.
When you are those things, it is hard to find someone like you. Someone to share this journey with. A partner, a true partner. Oh, there are always people about. Friends and lovers who are attracted to you. To what you can do for them. For what you can and do give them. There are more of them than you can ever feed, love and nurture.
Because the sad truth is that there are too few givers in this world and way too many takers. I am forty-nine...and five weeks. And I have always been alone. Even when I was in relationships. Even when I was married. I was alone in all the ways that matter most.
As a child, my sperm donor left me when I was two and a half. I was raised by my great-grandmother in a neighborhood with only a handful of children. My only friends were women ten times older than I was who taught me to sew, cook and crochet before I could read. They told me stories of the Great Depression and World War II. Don't feel sorry for me. Those women taught me more, were better friends than most I have had in my life. They made me who I am today...and I am thankful for that.
When I went to school, I was alone. Oh, I had a friend...or two. But I was not in the popular crowd. I had trouble learning to read so I was called dumb. My family did not have money so my hand me down clothes were made fun of. I escaped into my mind. My fantasies. I suppose you could say I told lies, but they are not lies when you believe them more than the reality about you. Don't feel sorry for me. Those experiences taught me to fantasize. That as long as you have your mind, you can go anywhere, be anything.
When I grew up and got married, I thought everything would be all right. I had someone that was all mine. A best friend. Someone I could count on. Except it was more about him counting on me. Me being what he needed when he needed it. When the chips were down, I was always alone. I was the one facing the hard choices...alone. Don't feel sorry for me. I made those decisions. I took the consequences. And I survived. That is what matters.
When I had children, I thought...at last, someone that will love me forever. And I poured my heart and soul into them all. I loved them. I taught them. I mentored them. And then I let them go. To be the people that they were meant to be. Don't feel sorry for me. That is how it is supposed to be. Children grown into adults and have their own lives. And if you have done your job well, they fly back home every now and again. Just often enough to remind you that it was all worth it.
These days I have my friends. People around me that care for me and I care for them. When I need someone to talk to, they listen. If I truly need something, they give it if they can. They are wonderful people. But they cannot be there all the time. The truth is that unless you are a twin...all of us enter this world alone. And even if we died in the arms of the person we love the most, we all leave it alone.
