Why is this compound, yet simple two-word statement so difficult for me to face head-on? l break it into its two-word structure. For the first time in many years I am being me. That’s not right, I was being me back then, the times I now scoff at as the struggle I learned to give up. I was no less me, back then. So the being part must be decimated first.
If being means coming to grips with the lessons life has pounded me over the head with for decades now, then we are in the age of learning. How much of the negatives do I allow to really take over my thoughts and actions? Which slights in life do I take seriously? The word “chill” comes to mind. There are only so many days in total so what is really important, the first sallow green shoots of Spring or the shit-head whose comment could have ruined my day or set my mind in a perpetual orbit of Planet Pissed Off? A week from now will it really matter?
Moving on to the second part of our dilemma, the word single. Approaching my 60th year on this earth I find my bed empty of human forms. (It is not lacking in other species.) Ordinarily, this would send me into an immediate Joni Mitchell-Song-For-Sharon-Moment of
“…Well there’s a wide wide world of noble causes
And lovely landscapes to discover
But all I really want to do right now
Is find another lover”
Single is the ultimate “Stinky Me” time, to the point where you wish someone would distract you. Single is the comfort of not being responsible beyond filling dishes with kibble and scratching heads. I have been alone before, perhaps not for this long a stretch, but certainly with the same over-active mind admonishing me for my personal failures somehow reflected in the fact that I am mateless.
I prefer to comfort myself with the fact the anyone who could see beyond my hermit lifestyle of writing and working at the store, would to be too much like me. I like me, but I don’t want date me.
Therapeutic Misadventures 
I’d date you! And I don’t think there is anyone more like you than I am! If you are ready, keep your eyes open at the store…on your errands. Strong singles don’t always give off vibes of interest ….
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are too funny which is why I love you Doppleganger! You have seen me through so many relationships in life!
LikeLike
The secret of love is not finding someone you can live with, but finding someone you can’t live without. Wait for Mr. Right, never settle for Mr. Rightnow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good Point! Like the lottery, you have to play to win and my playing days are behind me at the moment!
LikeLike
“I like me, but I don’t want to date me.” This is such a great observation. I also find that of myself! (I’m sure many others can, too). is it perhaps partly b/c people are often more critical of themselves than of others?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Phrodeo! Great observation and very true.
LikeLike
Live life and let it happen. You never know what the adventure will be. Meanwhile, you need to be where you want, doing what you want.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s exactly why you are the PHILosophermouse! Thank you. I really am most content at the moment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It must be part of human nature to always be searching…
LikeLiked by 1 person
So true, Susan. It is what we search for that changes.
LikeLike
I think some of us were just born to be single, and I think I’m one of those. I’m much happier alone than I ever was while I was attached.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good point, Allen but so many don’t understand that. How can you love someone else if you don’t love yourself?!
LikeLike
I think you can love yourself without anyone else being involved.
I don’t see being alone as being deprived of anything. In fact, just the opposite.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Agreed!
LikeLike
It seems to me that you are following your passions and dreams. If you listen to your heart then good things will come of it. Stay the course!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Fred! Staying the course is good advice and seeing the forks in the path takes constant attention!
LikeLike
Being alone is infinitely preferable to being in a bad relationship. My first marriage was hell and, once it was over, being alone felt good. There was certainly no looking for husband number two. Of course, in the end he appeared in the form of an old friend, and I’m glad of it. Even so, we spend more time apart than together and I’m glad of that too because I like my time alone too much to give it up completely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Stinky Me Time” is good for everyone, Marie!
LikeLike