The Deterioration of Hope

As each day passes between "today" and my next birthday, I'm more and more aware of getting older. And of my loneliness. I glance into the cars I pass on my daily 120-mile drive. I notice men and women traveling together, especially those who can be identified as husband-and-wife or long-term partners.

I've been out of a relationship for six years. I've been out of a lovely marriage for eleven years. I getting to the point where I can no longer remember what it's like to be with someone, to [have to] care about what someone else thinks or wants.

I see people kissing, and I can't remember what that feels like. I vaguely remember a flutter in the pit of one's stomach, a feeling of lightness, a glow emanating from one's very being. But I can no longer remember how you get to that point, what attracts you to the other person, what makes you want to hold hands or lock lips.

My cubemate terminated the contract to buy a house this week. She and her husband had found a lovely repossessed home on four acres along a lakeshore. They were thrilled at this find. But the bank chose not to cooperate, to act badly. The result was water damage to the house that will cost $120K to repair. After looking for so long, after finally deciding on this one house of many reviewed, my colleague is very depressed and sad. She must now start over from scratch.

My colleagues and I have been trying to boost her spirits, to assure her that there's an even better house waiting for her. And when one colleague came by our end of the hall to encourage her, I told him I'd been saying that to myself about finding a man, and it hadn't worked yet. He joked that maybe my man was a woman.

I told him that, with my new supershort hairstyle, I've been concerned that any man I might meet will think I'm a Lesbian, especially when most of my women friends in Youngstown are Lesbian. (Not that there's anything wrong with that. I love being with these women friends. It's just not me.)

We laughed and he assured me that his words didn't mean anything—had no hidden meaning. He said he thinks men would be intimidated by me, by my education and my talent and all I've accomplished or experienced in my life. Well, that's a good line, and a thoughtstream I have pondered many times in the past.

Really, wouldn't you rather have a man deserving of all the wonderfulness that is you, rather than just a man?

I would. I agree. But that doesn't assuage the loneliness.