I live in Scranton, PA. By this time in my existence, I should have three kids and be folding laundry. I should be sharing a bed. Instead, I live in my grandmother's old house and sleep in a daybed. I watch foreign movies, think about feminism, write and read at local open mics, struggle to pay bills, have a sometimes man who I love, and dream of a life behind the antique couch hovering like a mother in my living room.
I am always at odds with the fact I can't deny I am a thinker. Someone at work commented they are bored with their relationship because it is too comfortable. I have all the "comfortable" things in my life. A TV. A VCR. A computer. I can instant message you from across the world. I can't seem to hold a lover in my arms more than a night, though. The keys on this board aren't quite the companions they claim to be. I do have a good man in my life. We won't be together, though.
There's an age difference. There are difference of opinions. He respects my intelligence but sometimes the kisses don't come like they should. I keep waiting.
I do get them sometimes. When I do, they are electric. They make me long for the next time so much more. There is not enough certainty moving with the electric current. It's like the good old movies. They are rare and magical; but elusive in their beauty. They don't exist any more. I steal these moments like Casablanca. Ingrid would leave Bogie. You will probably leave me. But, there are times when Sam plays and I think for sure, this will be it.
I can't understand why someone wouldn't cherish this comfort level with another human being. A person who totally understands every aspect of you. The man who knows you so intimately--he can brush you and it makes you think of the rolled down covers, the rolling around, the way he positions himself into you and you are one. One. Not two, but one. The way he knows exactly what you like in your meatloaf, what blanket is your favorite, how to stroke your hair before sleep.
Did you ever notice how many people online brag about their relationships...
My Space will ask you your "status" as a human being. I am starting to feel sometimes that everything I do is based on the fact I don't have a steady lover or boyfriend.
This never really bothered me before. In the past year or so, though, I can't help escaping the thought the emptiness in my heart does bother me. It's different in your 20's. Then, the race to get married or have a significant other is based on some unspoken competition between women.
Now, I realize I could die by myself.
I saw a movie called Water today that sobered me up quite a bit. It talked about the place of widows in the Hindu culture. Even today, women who are widows are not looked upon with disdain if they decide to get married again or live their own life.
I suppose I don't have it that badly.
Here, in this area, the focus on getting married is such a prime, almost overtaking thing. Girls prepare for years to plan their wedding, from flowers to bridesmaids to the perfect music. I can never compare my suffering to the widows. There is, however, this unspoken silence by others who wonder what the hell you're story is or is in their eyes.
I am 33 years old. I am not been married. My boyfriend passed and it's been 5 years. I "date" a man who can take me or leave me. At least he makes me believe that. He could love me. If I'm asking the question, it's probably not a very good thing.
I want at least a commitment of living together; but, he says he will go for work and leave you behind. Some think I am gay, some say I just can't get it together, some think I resign yourself to be a spinster forever, or some think you are just a whore contented to pull up the covers to leave before the morning shows more than the outline of his face.
In other's eyes, I am all these things and nothing at all. There will always be another to judge or condemn in silence. I wonder why I proclaim myself feminist. I should be quiet. Sometimes, I wish I was a missionary or a nun. Then, I could have traveled. I so long to see other places, but it's always credit card bills or school loans. The only thing I'd carry on my back would be my silence, my celibacy and a backpack ready to take me to the next destination. Oh, and maybe a habit, but haven't those things gone out of favor since the 60's.
Nuns are liberated. Women around here, slightly less so.
There is nothing I'd like more than to live with the man I love. He has proclaimed me too "independent". Yet, he can come and go and I am left on a Saturday night sounding like a girl who has nothing else to do but wash her hair. I don't need the fancy white wedding, the bridesmaids with the updos, but I would like nothing more than to share my everyday with a man who is willing to do the same.
I suppose this sounds like one long bad personal ad. I am not sure if my want for children or a family drives me to write this terrible complaining treatise. I don't know that you can have that "independence" and have a man at the same time. It may be very hypocritical to think so.
Can I have everything I'd like as a woman? I have made many compromises so far. I am tired of them. I desire a life where desire is not looked upon with disdain. Single does not mean virgin until death. I like sex. I love sex in fact; but I don't always need the gold band to long for the touch of a man who isn't afraid a kiss means seventeen kids and a SUV. I'll settle for the peck on the lips. I'll settle for the bowl of cereal the next morning.
I'll settle for the smile that lets me know when the phone rings, I won't have to hope it's you. I will know. It's you. Thanks for leaving a message and thinking of me, even days after....