I give you fair warning: this is an emo post.

It’s Saturday. And here I sit. Alone. Again. How awful.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a very private person and I enjoy being on my own. Occasionally.  I have at least 9 other people in my personal space all day, 5 days a week, so I relish the peace and privacy that each weekend promises. What I don’t enjoy, however, is the fact that I have no choice in the matter, that I have no other option but to be alone right now and that upsets me. This isn’t how it’s meant to be …

Funny, yesterday all I wanted was to have 10 minutes to myself out in my garden and I couldn’t get that. Here I am today, out in my garden, utterly alone. And I feel completely miserable because this is not what I want. Not today.

It’s been nearly 4 months since Sir G and I split up and apart from the years of trauma I went through before, during and after my divorce, this has to be one of the toughest periods in my life.

I’ve not been properly single for nearly 20 years. In all that time I’ve had 2 relationships – one with my ex husband (15 years) and one with Sir G (4 years). Some tell me that I am loyal to a fault, but that’s another story for another time.

I always knew that sooner or later, me being “the boss” was going to be a problem. That, plus the fact that I live in and work from this house. Eventually, Sir G just disliked both these things too much for us to continue with our personal relationship.

Do I still love him? Without doubt.

Do I miss him? Terribly.

Are we friends? I’d like to think so.

Are we still going away on holiday together next month? Definitely.

Do I still want to rip his clothes off every time he walks in the door? Absolutely.

He’s beautiful, inside and out. We were lucky enough to share a sublime connection during our time together.

But …

The thing is, I may be “the boss” from 9-5, but I certainly don’t want to wear that mantle all the time, and definitely not after hours. That’s the problem when people perceive you as being a strong, independent woman – they don’t realize that there are times when you want/need to let that all go and just be, well, vulnerable.  There are times when all you want is to be with someone who knows you inside out and takes care of you for a change – physically, emotionally, spiritually, financially.

*waits for the feminist backlash*

Looking back, I don’t think I’ve had the privilege of sharing that treasured 4-way bond with anyone.

Looking forward, I don’t know that I ever will.

And that depresses the hell out of me.

Let’s get real for a minute here: I am staring down the barrel of being a 40-year old divorcee with 2 nearly grown kids.

That’s not a great prospect.

And if you’re about to tell me something akin to “but life begins at 40!” … Fuck off.

What bullshit. I know not ONE woman over 40 who’s walking that talk. Anyone who claims that is lying. They’re telling themselves it’s OK to live without someone to love completely and who loves you back unconditionally. It’s not.

That’s not living. That’s missing out on what makes everything you feel, smell, hear, taste, touch, think and dream come alive.

I want that.

And no, I don’t think I “deserve” it. That’s bullshit too. No-one deserves anything. Life doesn’t play fair.

*sigh*

I see people all around me hooking up, getting engaged, embarking on the journey of marriage together.

I’m happy for them.

I’m sad for me.

5 Years ago, even just 2 years ago, I would have cringed at the idea of getting married again. But now … now I’m ready. And now I’m single. Oh, the irony!

Hah.

Every day I ask myself: is this it? Is this how my life is going to be until I kick the bucket?

Work. Eat. Read. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat.

Seems pretty pointless to me.

I’ve taken a long, hard look at myself and this is what I see:

• I’m past my prime.
• I’m overweight.
• I have eye bags and saggy boobs.
• I’m painfully shy and an extreme introvert.
• I don’t talk.
• I’m moody.
• I’m selfish and stubborn.
• I’m misunderstood – always have been.
• I don’t cook.
• I detest housework.

Who would want to team up with that?

It’s Saturday. And here I sit. Alone. Again. How awful.

Will I always be alone? I rather suspect the answer may be a resounding “YES!”