Friday, February 09, 2007

on being alone...

I had a long talk with my friend Auntie#K yesterday, when she mercifully took my desolate self out for dinner to rescue me from the ever shrinking and suffocating walls of my empty apartement.

The point of discussion was my inability to be alone for more than 5 minutes at a time. You see, I like to have alone-time, but that obviously isn't the same as being alone. Even though I am quite the misanthrope on a daily basis, I have spent pretty much my entire life with and around people... and the only time I actually lived by myself I had to get myself a cat and antidepressants to keep myself from throwing myself off the balcony of my fifth floor apartment from all my loneliness.

You see, I lived with my parents and sister for 22 years. Then I almost attempted suicide because I decided that living alone would be a good idea. Then I lived with a boyfriend, which soon turned into some sort of commune situation for a good year. Then I lived with my now-husband for almost a year, and then to save rent and other expenses we moved in with my now-brother-in-law and our other bandmate, who frequently had his children over, and lived like that for another year. And since we are back in Austria, obviously Geo and I have been together. With two cats.

Auntie#K mentioned how I have been following such strategies ever since she can remember, not only in living situations, but in my love life as well. Looking back, I'd say I had 2 really serious relationships, one of them being my marriage, obviously. Timewise, they were quite far apart - but I was never alone. As one relationship ended I wasn't "single" for two weeks before I started the next one. Rebound after rebound, during which I licked my wounds, got over the real loss, and then moved on. Not exactly fair to those rebound guys... but at least I was never alone, having to actually deal with this situation. Not so Auntie#K, who is quite reluctant of entering another relationship when one has ended, and that for very long times. She's been living alone for over three years now - and she's used to it. Needless to say, she was laughing at me for pummeling down into my little hole because Geo is a whopping three hours away for a grand total of four days.

And the worst thing is, I am hating this misery I am feeling. I find it ridiculous myself. I hate that I am so depending on being with him, that I obviously cannot function right when he's not here. I miss him with such an intensity and so much passion... I could barely sleep at all without feeling him by my side, or feeling his warm breath on my skin.

I hate that, when I had the chance to, I have never learned to be alone and be happy with it.

On the good side - I feel again like I did when Geo and I were still dating, and we would spend time with each other once or twice a week. I feel like I did in the days between our dates, when time seemed to move through sticky honey, and I felt that I would barely manage to survive from one date to the next. I appreciate these feelings now, it makes me feel like a teenager with her first crush again, and I love the fact that I do feel like that about him after almost four years of being inseparable. This feeling of awe and wonder that I am with a person like him has never left me, sometimes I am still amazed that I found him, that we went through with our relationship despite all odds (that may be a story for another day), that a person like him fell in love with me. This feeling is as strong as it ever was, it just sometimes gets overshadowed by all the daily stress and routine that we sometimes let ourselves get carried away with... so in an odd way, and despite all the pain that our short separation is causing me, I am actually kind of thankful for it.

Happy 5-month wedding anniversary to us. :)

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