I switched on a lamp.
December 25th and I was alone. Husband on retreat. Family flung across the country. Friends out of town. Well, Miss Spiritual, here’s where spontaneity has gotten you. So much for being one with what is. So much for surrender. So much for acceptance. I should have made plans.
Alone-on-Christmas was a character flaw.
I had to get away from me. Read a book. Imaginary friends were better than none. Go to WalMart. where there was twenty-four hour noise and crowds. Call that acquaintance who’s also alone. She said she’d love to hear from you.
Read which book? There were hundreds on the iPad and dozens in the house. I was too panicked to choose a book that would calm me down. WalMart? A hall of mirrors, images of myself at every turn. Every one of us an unattached soul with nowhere else to be at two in the morning. On this particular morning. And my god, what if I saw someone I knew? Call a friend? Wake her up in the middle of the night. That was a good way to end a relationship. A smart woman would solve her own problems.
I turned off the lamp and lay back down. Demons populated my sleep. Awake—neural pathways dead-ended in a pit. Either way, I was by myself and didn’t like the company.
(to be continued)
This happened in 2010. It had a happy ending. And also a total lunar eclipse.
The rest of the story will be in my next book,
Searching for My Heart: Essays About Love
7oo Things that Scare Me: #154, Ghosts
A Kitchen Moment