It’s been close to 2 years. I think of the blog often and never write in it. Passing beauty, small joys, adventures, cats, questions, all half written in my mind, never written. I waste time in other ways. I grow discontented, then contented, then more discontented. I have wondered if I am experiencing a “mid-life crisis”. Do women do that? Do spinster women with busy jobs and no children and no lovers ever do this?
My house falls into clutter, I want the clutter gone. Yet another good show cat on the circuit, or two, or three. Wonderful retired show cats placed. Not enough snow to make January the most beautiful of months. I miss the hush and glitter of snow.
I have, once again, fallen for someone. The someone, as always, has not fallen for me. He is a talented, interesting, intelligent, kind, and single, man (as almost all have been). I am not his type. I almost convinced myself otherwise. But I looked and thought and weighed and knew better. We are friends. I intend to remain friends. My idiot heart will get over it, eventually. It just always takes so damn long.
Remember Walter? I lived in the same shared apartment with him and one or two others for what? 9 years? In love with him (I should say at him to be accurate) almost the whole time. Before and after that, how many? A half a dozen? A dozen? Crushes, stupid adolescent crushes from real adolescence through being a grown woman… now closing in on being an old woman.
I am so used to it now that this time I could stand aside and watch the chemical switch flip. I was simply enjoying the conversation and company of a particular interesting and attractive man as I had a number of times before for dinner or drinks, and then a turn in the conversation, a look and there was the sudden fall off the cliff. Shit. Why now? Aren’t I too old for this yet? And “but maybe this time….” and watching and paying attention so carefully, some flirtation on my part, careful placing of me as “friend” on his. Nope. Same old same old. I don’t get it. What is this chemical switch? Why can’t one just summarily haul oneself right back up the cliff one fell off of and turn it off. It would make more sense. Particularly since at this point in my life, even if the feeling were reciprocated (ha!) I would not abandon my job and my life as it is to go off somewhere else with someone. No. Not conceivable to me at all.
The end result is hours of rationality punctuated by stupid schoolgirl heartache. I hate it. Maybe this time I will recover quickly and the pain will leave.
That is all love is for me. Pain. It is a physical pain, sort of like being punched in the stomach. It endangers otherwise good friendships. It wastes time. I want it to go away.
I think that I make no pheromones and so this is just my lot in life. Nothing else makes sense. Yet things could be much worse than to simply be single forever. I like to be alone and I rather enjoy my singleness. I also enjoy the company of friends here and there. So, I want to turn off this one part of my heart. It serves no purpose.