Putting it Into Words

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.