but I'm not sure how to say it. I suppose the best place to start would be why I never posted a second update of my recovery. While I suppose I had an out with the whole pneumonia thing, there is an underlying and much deeper reason for my delay. I was lonely.
All who know me know that I value my space. Growing up with so many siblings in such a quick succession, and frequently having very different desires and opinions from them, made me very possessive and territorial at a very young age. Not uncommon in large families, when all is said and done. That doesn't really make it any easier. After high school ended and college began I found more ways to take time out for myself to do what I wanted (which mostly amounted to reading books and going to movies), and I found ways to enjoy doing things by myself. I take myself shopping, take myself to dinner, take myself for long car rides and to movies. Truth be told I've been to at least as many movies on my own as with others, at least as far as the last decade goes.
I enjoyed this solitude for many years, at least for the most part. Not having to worry about which movie to see, having to wait until its convenient for someone else, picking whatever restaurant suited my mood. I found, though, that as more time passed it became more about choosing to spend time alone, rather than having to spend time alone. I chose to take myself to this or that movie, instead of bemoaning the fact that I was home. Alone. Still. The movie was a very welcome distraction, the bookstores a welcoming refuge of books eager to be read, characters waiting for me to discover them.
I don't live my life dwelling on this. For the most part it never enters my mind. I work, I go to church, I spend time with family. I am content and at peace with who I am and what I do. I've actually been more comfortable with myself and my single status over the last few months than I've been for the last few years, after going through the temple and drawing closer to my Savior. There are times, though, where it becomes a little more obvious. A little harder to find the simple joy that comes from being my own person.
As my dad in particular can attest, it usually comes around this time of year--about the middle or so of November through the middle or so of March--the holiday season through my birthday and a couple of weeks beyond. There's a reason why this time period is so cliche'd as being depressing for singles, and I am not immune to it. I find myself buying more books, going to more movies, spending more time at restaurants alone.
This year, however, it began a little earlier. I can usually shake it off at work (being a toy store manager during the holiday season has certain workaholic advantages for those seeking distraction from personal crises), but this time it was not an option. I was away from work for surgery recovery and pneumonia. Work was not even close to being an option, unfortunately. While early on in my recovery I was totally cool being alone, this got harder and harder as time passed. It came to the point that I was literaly sobbing, desperate to just be held by someone who loved me and wanted to be with me through it, and not just there out of some sense of duty or obligation. I will forever be grateful for my niece Jane, who had come back to my apartment several times that day to talk to me, and even gave me a hug before she left. Even with that, though, I swore that I would never have surgery again until I had someone there with me. I still feel that way. Given an option I'll wait, thank you very much.
I'm not saying this for want of pity. Truth be told I don't really know why I'm saying this, aside from a feeling that I wanted it posted. I'm not looking forward to another Christmas season alone. Part of me acknowledges that maybe this year will be the first one when I'm not alone, that just maybe this will be the year that someone falls in love with me, and I with him. This gets a little harder every year. Just know, though, that I'm not "desperate". I don't need a man to complete me, to be whole as a person or to move forward in and enjoy my life.
Just over six years ago, on Trek, a letter was read from a single sister. While I don't remember the bulk of the letter, the impression lingers. She spoke of the struggle to keep her heart open, to not become bitter or cold in loneliness. I think that's the message I want to share. That no matter what the future holds, I trust the Lord's time table. I'll keep my heart open, and wait with patience and faith. So if you see me in a somber moment, lingering on the edges of the group or slipping away briefly from a family gathering, just know that in the end these moments will make my joy all the sweeter.
