state of solitude

Picture summer. Those movies set in the dog days of August where the kids are out of school and have found an empty swimming pool to slide around, maybe skateboard, whatever kids in movies do. That empty pool stark white, maybe with dripping rusty tears around portholes and some brown branches scattered here and there. This empty pool is dating in Laramie, Wyoming. This empty pool is dating for me.

I’ve picked up every stick from the pool trying to make it a tree that will grow, blossom in spring, sing to me in the wind like tall trees of the mountains. That all happens, for about three months. Sometimes more rapid fire depending on the seasons and the ebb and flow of my passion and anger. With each potential love and each break up the white cement pool turns into a horror movie scene filling with brackish water and foul smells.

Underneath the dark waters of this dating pool and are the hidden stuff that has been tucked away neatly in the bliss of a new lover, the pain of all the others who rejected me, insecurities drip dripping like water from the garden hose that filled this place. And I dive right into the pool at the conclusion of each person to find myself suffocating. Each break up like a heart attack. Each attempt at love a nose dive into the shallow end.

I thrash around in the pool for a while trying to survive on what I tell myself are my redeeming qualities “you are good person.” And like a struggling drowning victim it only gets worse. Positive affirmations are junk from the eighties that I can’t always jive with. No, I’m not always a good person. In fact, I think some pretty shitty stuff about some folks.  And in that pathetically human way, I think worse things about myself. I positively and negatively affirm that yes I’m in this human experience suffering in this mound of flesh right along with others.

In all these dating stories the narrative is the same—he stopped talking to me, she ghosted me, what could I have done differently, I’m a nice engaging person why can’t I land a keeper? People are fickle. Sometimes it turns out they are gay. Sometimes it turns out they are in love with their former spouse. Sometimes they don’t find you sexually attractive. Sometimes they are too deep in drugs and alcohol to chill.

This cement pool, this space, full or empty is just a perception. There’s no reason to stay and skateboard with these kids and let this empty place take up space in the head. There is nothing for rent in the human heart, especially a place for disturbing thoughts that stop the divinity from shining through. There is choice in dating and while the suffering is great there are things that keep us all in Laramie. We are Wyoming tough.  We are ready to be in isolation for just a minute.  It don’t bother us none.  Do what has to be done. Live each day with courage. Especially this Valentine’s Day single or in love–human worth does not change.

“Recognize that you are enough, and that all external gifts are simply extra blessings.”
― Bryant McGill

Advertisements
Quote | This entry was posted in Archetypes, Asana, Body Image, character study, depression, Dharma, Dichotomies, Divorce, eccentric, Existentialism, Family, Fear, Health Issues, Laramie, marriage, Mental Health, Micro Non-Fiction, Mindfulness, Non-Fiction, Nostalgia, Self Growth, Self Love, Self Reflection, Sex, Universiality, Wyoming, Yoga and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.