As a writer, I spend a lot of time alone, and a lot of time thinking – mostly contemplating life. Tonight, the holiday dinner is over, the kids and grandkids are all off on their merry way, and I sit here pondering how it feels to be alone again in my quiet home. It feels natural now.
I was nearing 40 when I met Rick, so I was used to feeling single and alone for most of my adult life until that point. I’ve always been surrounded by many loved ones with whom I share my joys and sorrows, and I had boyfriends I loved before I met him, but no one with whom I was truly connected to the way I was with Rick. He was most definitely the yin to my yang. I knew I’d never felt a connection like that before, and I doubted I’d ever find it again with anyone else. It was a shock and a delight to finally find “my person” and share ALL of myself with him, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
So I married him.
Tonight, as I mused over what I once had and what I’ve lost, I realized if you add up the years before and after Rick, I’ve been a single woman, alone on this planet, much longer than those short two decades I shared with him.