Sometimes my loneliness touches a wound inside me that runs so deep. It travels all the way back to past heartbreaks and losses and down to the core …the umbilical cord that once was. Snip. Snip. I feel like a helpless baby with no one around. No one to pick me up. No one to hold me and left to die. Oh, well.
I’m not a baby anymore. I’m thirty-thrive years old. I can pick myself up. I can hold myself. One hand on my heart and the other on my belly and breath. Ahhhh, yes. I can take care of myself, and I won’t die. Okay, good.
My loneliness comes in waves. I’ve learned how to ride them. Call my friends and write that blog. Sure, go on that coffee date. He doesn’t seem like he’s in too much debt. Or just take a nap.
Other times the wave crashes over me and takes me down. I feel this giant whoosh of sadness pressing on me. Down. Down. Down. Fuck, now what do I do?
My loneliness is mainly located in my vagina. Well, that’s what it feels like at least. I scroll through my phone and look for my next victim. Some sad sack (like me) who will do whatever I want him to do.
Let’s cuddle as I talk about my childhood while Felicity is playing in the background. Now place your left hand here and your right hand there and perform at a rhythm of 3/4. Could you do it faster? Could you do it harder? At this point, can you just do it better? Never mind.
Now that I’m older, I’m not so much into booty calls or as I like to refer to them, sad hangs. Sure, sometimes the only thing I’d like to feel is a hard yard pounding me like there’s no tomorrow instead of feeling grief over my grandmother’s death. Who wouldn’t?
But that hard yard only goes so far. The hard yard never heals the wounds. Doesn’t bring back the dead. It doesn’t solve the deprivation of having a bad father either. A few moments of bliss, perhaps…that is if he’s the right booty call.
Recently I’ve learned how to dance with my sadness instead of showing my bush to unavailable men. First things first, you have to look at the sadness in the eye and address it.
Then let it move you. Inspire you. Sadness can actually help you figure things out in your life. A new revelation will appear if you let it. Feelings don’t need to be banged out of you or immediately removed. Sadness can present a light on something that you really need to know. A change that you need to make. It will help you solve answers that the hard yard falls short on.
Well, that’s been my experience while being thirty-thrive.