Back when I had a partner, I used to idly engage in an internal debate in which I considered which state of life was more difficult: being in a relationship or being single. It was a purely rhetorical debate; I wasn't contemplating a change. But I could remember life as a singleton and I was intrigued by the differences.
Little did I know.
Now without a partner, I can contemplate life on my own and compare it to life in a partnership. But whereas I could once consider the question with the emotional detachment of what I thought was a secure relationship, these days the issue isn't one of idle reflection. In fact, given the choice, I just don't go there.
But sometimes the choice is stripped from me, and I find myself right in the middle of some pretty thorny territory. It happened the other day when I woke up in the middle of my bed. In that hazy moment when I was slipping out of sleep, I moved back to my side and then reached over to the other side of the bed, only to come up empty-handed. And now fully awake and awash in the familiar realization that while I now have the run of the bed, I also bear all that entails.
In my weaker moments, I'm afraid about my future. I don't mean the day to day; that I mostly handle. I mean that moment in the distance when I send the boy away to college and sit down to the supper table on my own. I worry about aging and illness. If I get under the weather now, it's a challenge for me to keep family life on an even keel. But if I got really sick, what would happen to me? How would I cope? Would I even want to cope?
So for every small relief I experience from being on my own (there are some; for example, it's much easier to compose a grocery list), there are compensating anxieties (both large and small). Mostly, I take it day to day and attempt to shelve my fears. There's really nothing I can do about them. And worrying doesn't get the laundry done.
But there's still a lot about life in a partnership that I miss. I miss the inside jokes. I miss the easy affection. I miss having someone to talk over the things big and small that one shares in the easy feel of intimacy. I miss a walk through the garden together. I miss the sense of an uncertain future to be shared, thus removing fear from the uncertainty equation. But most of all, I miss being able to reach across the dark of the room to touch a hand; to feel a heartbeat and know that I'm not alone.
1 comment:
Although I found this post a little sad, it really made me grateful to have Colby. I so often take him for granted. I've heard people say that getting a divorce is often as bad as your spouse dying because you have completely lost the life you had together even though you may still desperately love your partner. I wish I had a funny joke or quip, but, alas, the well is dry.
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