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I vacillate between the dark and the light – the little dark fury that sits on my shoulder says some pretty nasty stuff like you are not accomplishing anything right now Rachel, you keep getting injured and it sabotages your physical routine Rachel, you’re never going to (fill in the blank) Rachel. The light airy fairy flutters around and makes me feel like I’m on Cloud 9 and overflowing with gratitude for all the bounty that is my life. These two need to meet and have sex.

Just sayin.

A friend of mine built a beautiful house in San Miguel de Allende and invited me to come visit him. I made these plans in early January, when there was the promise of work, not the dismal reality of a paycheck to paycheck livelihood that has punctuated 2015. Food on the table, clothes on our back, gas in the car – I tell myself we are not poor, we are grateful. But that ditty wears thin.

So I’m out of here – what can I say? I’m going to visit my friend in Mexico and soak up the sunlight of another place. I’m fortunate. Yesterday in a board meeting, one of the members was late because her friend, a woman of 56 years, dropped dead all of a sudden, shocking her loved ones. See, I’m 56, I’m still living, and if I’m still living, then I’m still wistful about the promise of tomorrow and grateful for the reality of today.

It makes no difference that I dreamed the other night I was in a valley and up high on the ridge were not one but many people pointing rifles at me intending to kill me. I ran and ran and I wound up in an old deserted office with file cabinets and boxes, and I was on top of the tallest file cabinet when I saw through a dusty window one of the guys about to enter, beside him was my trusty dog, Arlene the Bean. In that instant of terror, I was stunned to see my dog who I’ve missed for so long and a smile automatically came to my lips, then I realized the guy was intending to kill me so I jumped in the closet – there was plenty of time it seemed to get snug back into the clothes when suddenly the man entered the office and was standing in front of the closet and he opened the door and pointed his rifle.

I woke up.

The dream was coded, there is something I have not brought to light, something that needs to be said. Something that needs to be aired in the breaking light of day and the dark cloudless night, and perhaps I need to open the window and throw this out to the universe – I do miss having a partner, having lived most of my life with someone to love. Yes, single life is all easy and doable, but I miss nights of curling up on the sofa and watching a movie with a lover, having sex in the grogginess of the morning before either of us is quite awake, and even text messages that are endearing or sexy or both, and worth saving. The world is too much with us, and I would like to have someone to share my bounty with – that’s all I need to say.

Perhaps this longing was spurred on by a note my neighbor left in my mailbox two days ago that asked me to call him, just to talk, that he is “ready” – he is also married, sadly. I saw him today. I looked him in the eye. Sometimes loneliness is harder when you are with someone rather than by yourself.

I feel for him, but I’m ready for love, not lust or wanderlust.

Andrew Wyeth; Wind from the Sea, National Gallery

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 19th, 2015 at 6:44 pm and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.