I Hope

I am feeling very lonely tonight.

I had planned, since Wednesday, to go to a wine tasting/Halloween party tonight but I bailed on that plan to stay home and learn five songs for my show and get myself to a place where I could feel relaxed about the musical part of the show. Now all I have to worry about is stage movement and costumes.

I have not spent an evening alone at home in a few weeks because I have been trying to outrun my grief so I have been keeping a crazy schedule, which falls under the category of “decisions that felt right at the time.” My frenetic pace has left me feeling exhausted and stressed out, both reasons I stayed home tonight. Now I’m rested and less stressed because I am now more prepared and because I did what I am supposed to do.

Tonight ended up being good, but I kept breaking down in between learning songs, washing laundry and wishing one of my friends would call.

I had a coffee date with a man this morning, our second date, and when it was over he told me he just wasn’t feeling a connection. I didn’t expect to be rejected and my body flew into a panic. I felt grief rising up from my core to stick it’s ugly head into my business, making a simple rejection, which, by the way, is par for the course in the world of dating, seem like death all over again. When grief rears it’s ugly head, I begin thinking thoughts like, “Chris didn’t reject me.” and “How am I ever going to repeat the way I met Chris with another man?” and the ever-popular, “Why, why, why did he have to die?!!” I managed to talk myself out of the reaction by reasoning with myself. After all, I rejected Marc and I did it three months into our relationship, not just two days into it. I can’t help thinking that he must have been hurt, even though I didn’t think so at the time because just like this morning’s date, I wasn’t “feeling a connection.”

In the midst of my grief reaction I regretted breaking up with Marc and I even thought about e-mailing him to ask if we could talk. I imagined myself finally allowing myself to fall apart right in front of him and telling him how sad I really feel most days at this point in my grief. I told him all of that before, but my poker face did not support the truth. At any rate, I bounced back into reality and realized that if I act on my desperation at this point, I could end up hurting him worse in the future. We did have fun together, but I am still not sure of my reasons for ending our relationship. I cannot figure out if we were a mismatch or if I was panicking out of grief. I couldn’t figure it out then and I can’t figure it out now. I just knew I had to get away from him quickly and retreat into my secret, safe cocoon. Even if it was possible, I wouldn’t suck him back in, unsure of whether I would spit him back out, again.

I allowed all of my tears to flow freely tonight, just like Diane said I should. I cried a lot, but I felt better after each burst, even if I am never going to feel better about my loss.

I am feeling so afraid of ending up alone, and so pressured to find a man to fill the void as soon as possible. I don’t like feeling desperate, but I can’t help worrying about my age. Diane said that when she was widowed, she felt old and also felt like others thought she looked old. That’s exactly how I feel all of the time, now, and I don’t know how to get out of that harmful and sad thought pattern.

What if nobody ever loves me, again, as much as Chris did? The thought conjures up an image of a deserted corner of a cemetery where my gravestone lies beneath weeds, my epitaph faded with time, not a beam of sunlight reaching it’s face. I know this description sounds dramatic, but some days, I really feel like my existence could end that way.

If I could have my wish tonight, I would wish to forget about men for the time being and just have fun, do my thing and live my life. If I can achieve that goal, I believe companionship will follow. I hope.