Scenes from a Life: Solo Flight {6/9}

Of all the things she ever imagined about life, it never crossed her mind that she would be this in middle age: Alone.

On some level, it's no surprise. She's never attracted quantity. But it hardly matters now — the dateless high school and university years. It doesn't even matter that what she thought was at last a life partnership disintegrated. 

It all meant she finally learned to marry being smart, capable, and diverse with the rest of who she is. It meant that as she turned forty she knew herself unequivocally. She was ready.

Except years on nothing has changed. She still dwells in solitude.

The irony is that her life is rich and full. So much of it brings her joy. She lives it deeply and is capable of doing so until the end of her days.

The problem is that she wants to share it, and partake in someone else's. She wants happiness that splits the sky. She wants pain that can only be shouldered together. And she wants passion that will stain the sheets every fucking chance they get.

She wants this so badly she can feel the ache of its absence physically. It rattles her ribcage. It squeezes her throat. It sits like a weight inside her, a living thing that she can never seem to birth.

And it's not that she hasn't tried. God, has she tried. She has reached out. She has loved with the very fibre of her being. She has given from her very depths. She has offered her truest self. 
It's never what they want. Or what they need. Or what they can accept. She is never the one they choose, risk for. It's never her.

On her worst days she shames herself: She isn't smart enough or desirable enough or unique enough or ... simply enough. She looks in the mirror and sees failure — to be what someone wants in his life. 

On her best days she tells herself what she hopes is truth: She just needs to stay open, no matter how hard it is. She can't let the light go out. She must let her spirit shine so the one who wants it and will fight for it can see it. 

Until then she loves herself the best she can. Fucks herself the best she can. And tries so godamned hard not to lose hope that he's out there.

Soundtrack: LP, "Lost On You"