Sometimes I think that I live in an emotional void in which only writing helps me escape. When I meet people and they inquire, “How are you?” I try to be polite. I usually reply with a smile, “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” I paint pages with words to express what I’m really feeling inside. It helps me to tell the truth. It keeps from doing something crazy like running nearly naked from my house one night in a fit of misery. I don’t want to give in to the idea that there will be no romance.I don’t want this void to be my home. My solitude has become a narcissistic paradise. Maybe a single brush with adult love would break the spell.
*Painting by Claude Monet
Nympheas Effet du Soir
2 comments:
With writing and art flowing through your head, you are your own best companion right now-- your kids, as they grow, will become more suitable in that regard in the adult sense, but for now, while things are worked out by you, you're the only adult you have to converse with (in an other-than-online sense). To seek out adult companionship before things are resolved between your husband and you (be it through divorce or an unlikely reconciliation) would be to wake the dragon. I hope you get that companionship you deserve. Not soon, as everyone else might be inclined to say without thinking, but in due course. Take much care.
Thanks, John. I do have friends other than my computer, but I want the kind of friend that shares my secrets and my bed.
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