or maybe I should call it house arrest. Hmmm. Both sound so final; so definitive and closed. But that’s not what it is at all. I am closing doors in order to open new ones. Seeking voices and words to carry me to the next place-by standing alone: walking in a solitary state and listening.
I have found that I enjoy being in a relationship. I thrive in it on one level, but also lose a bit of myself. That’s where in lies the work-in finding a way to not lose oneself in the passion and enthusiasm of sharing bits of life with a partner.
I can even say I crave it sometimes. The surety of a kiss coming your way. A guarantee of companionship through the next DVD rental. Company for a walk along the sunset strewn beach. But I thrive on my independence as well. Drinking my first cup of coffee in bed without concern of disturbing some one’s slumber. Eating dinner when my stomach growls rather than awaiting a table-with-a-view reservation. Not putting makeup on until noon. Boxers and tank top at the dinner table. One towel drying on the towel rack.
I’m on hiatus. I’m pulling back from all the extra that surrounds my days and simply engaging in listening. Doing and acting from my instincts and intuition and following where it leads. Now is the time. My guys are away: My house is purged of testosterone. Let’s see where it takes me.
And, let me simply live and wait for the somebody who will come along and love me without requiring instructions. in love. trish. girly girl