Almost 10 years ago, as my life was falling apart, I bought and moved into a smaller house for myself and my kids (part time) to live in. I was lost. Making poor choices and decisions. Searching for something, someone, anything, anyone, to make me feel better, to try and fix this new and shattered me. Or at least make me forget for a short time of what I had become. I lived for 5 years with my kids coming and going several days a week, until adulthood and college took them away full time, leaving me alone in my home. And I learned to be okay. I learned to actually like my solitude when I came home from work, or from one of my adventures seeing different parts of the country. I liked the quiet. I liked the mostly always clean place I could escape from the world, and everyone in it. I moved to a small apartment a few years ago in the city, continuing my alone time, maintaining my space, following my routine and cleaning schedule. I retreated into my art covered walls, all the while throwing up more and walls to guard myself and my feelings. Over the past 10 years, since my marriage crashed and died, Ive had a few short term things that fizzled. I had a long term relationship that I ultimately had to end due to my inability to love and care for that person the way they deserved and needed. I was crushed when someone I thought was going to be a good fit for a forever partner turned out to be a much better lifelong good friend, for which I am so thankful he recognized this since I did'nt at the time. I hurt some peoples hearts and feelings, and had mine injured as well but since I had grown to keep myself, and kep my feelings under wraps and not let myself get to hopeful or attached (everyone leaves me one way or another) I was ok. And so....I kept my place OCD clean. I did my weekly shopping. I met friends for dinner or coffee, or I would be the driver while they drank ( I stopped drinking for good one year, one month, and 18 days ago). I went to work, came home, and ignored those around me I didn't want to let in. And I was ok.
But then...I slowly began to think "I'm missing out. Something isn't right". I began cautiously actually talking and dating, rather than meeting new nameless mates for a few hours of purely physical release, never to see or speak again. I started making the second and third contact. But still....the guards were up. The locks in place. I was closed off. My good friend kept telling me "you've got to try. you've got to just see." And then I began to see...
We started like so many others before. No expectations. I had no hope or thoughts anything more than a nice evening would transpire. But then, there was a next day text. and then a bunch more. A second date. A third. Not a day went by there wasn't some contact of some kind. I tried to hide. I used my method of making someone not right by finding things I didn't like and expanding on them. I focused on the negative aspects. I shut down any thoughts I started to have of "maybe...". and yet I kept saying yes to seeing him when I could. My encouraging friend became my sounding board on my indecisiveness. I fought it. Determined "this is the last time" we would see each other and my resolve became "next time will really be it...."
And then....I realized I didn't want it be the last time. I realized I was looking forward to "next time". I left him sleeping in my bed when I went to work a few times with the spare key on the counter for him to hide after locking up. Someone was in my space. We began talking about "someday" and "when we do or go.." Messages went from "do you want to come over on your day off" to "do you want to make dinner tonight or go out when you get there". A short getaway sealed it. I knew the gates I had put up and welded shut were cracked. He had worked his way into my feelings. When I knew this, I was scared. Again, everyone leaves me. I ruin stuff. I'm not emotionally THERE like I should be. I cant give like he deserves. But there it was... a bit of hope. a flicker of seeing a future not spent dying alone at my dining room table surrounded by pictures of a past life lived well. We had the "where are going with this talk". I gave him his own key to my house. I told him to just assume he was welcome anytime. We made tentative plans for holidays and a vacation. We talked about getting a different couch someday. The once or twice a week wake ups together became shorter in between, with plans "down the road" for it to become more permanent. I had to be ready to give up my alone time. I needed to make sure I could still be selfish enough to have my life and space but have someone else in it too. I had accepted I was meant to be alone, and I was fine with this. I didn't want this to change.After my life fell apart I vowed I would never let myself feel like that about someone again, never let someone in like that again. I had to protect myself, and would. Nobody is allowed near enough to hurt me again. But My friend told me to "just go with it. Let yourself have this". And so... I did. I dropped my guard and let him march fully in. I shattered my determination to be ok with how things were and decided to see how they will be instead. There will be someone there now across from me at the table at night. When I roll over in my sleep every night I will be reaching out touching someone. The shower has different body washes in it. I have to close the bathroom door now when I use it. And I'm ok with all of this. I did it. I found what I didn't know I wanted or needed. I'm sharing my space, my life, my feelings, my heart, fully with someone like I haven't done in many many years, like i thought I couldn't ever again.
" I put my socks in your drawer". Yes, he did. And I made the room.
