This is not the story I wanted to tell today.
Y’know, sometimes I really am a badass lady who dresses up, rocks up solo and dances passionately at an outrageous club on her last night in New York. Sometimes I really do sob on a Sunday night on my loungeroom floor as the Melbourne winter wind rattles the windows. I’m now reporting to you live from the latter situation.
A few Sundays ago I was feeling particularly sad and lonely. That morning I’d been on a fantastic blind date in the new café around the corner from my house with this great bloke, then later that night he’d finally replied to my text by telling me he was interested in friendship. That evening the bloke who I’d been seeing for a few weeks ambiguously (potentially platonically potentially romantically, it was unclear, such is the slow burn strategy) wanted to hang out so we did and I shared a piece of myself and he did not hold it well and I realised I would rather spend time with myself than with this person. So I cried in my room and wrote the below song that turned into a poem.
The next day I had to tell a story at the big Moth Grand Slam for 700 people in a proper fancy theatre and I was telling a story a decade old about how bold and brave I once was at a rodeo and I didn’t know how to tell it with integrity when I was feeling very unlike that younger woman.
Sometimes I am find being single and I am fine with the love that is in my life.
Sometimes it is really hard.
Sometimes it is strange telling cute little dating stories going for the lols when you feel like the sad react button.
So I will share that nightclub story someday. It’s a bloody good one, I swear it’ll be worth the wait! But right now here’s that poem I wrote a few weeks ago, when rejection happened and I felt justifiably a bit down. Nothing specifically occurred today, except I had a hard convo with a new friend and we cried and hugged and now I feel sad and lonely again even though the convo and the feelings now are seemingly unrelated. Maybe you get sad about one thing and all your other sad things just take it as an open invitation. Who knows.
Anyway. I am alright. I just feel things strongly sometimes. So here you go. Here I am. Here are these feelings. Maybe you have felt some too? Maybe not. Either way, thanks for being along for the ride.
What do I do with this longing?
Where do I put this desire?
This yearning, sometimes it comes out in tears.
This wanting is not always driven by fears.
I can put it in pot plants, into baking trays and postcards,
into words with friends and family who all want for me too
but there is not much to do
or many things to say.
This hope after hope after hope it grows weary.
This weight is not easy to share
This longing sometimes it weighs heavy
It does not grow less when examined in light
It’s pretty simple,
There are so many moments of joy, bliss and beauty
yet it still bides its time
until I notice it again.
Desirous attachment gets a bad Buddhist rap but surely connections root us in belonging?
Contentment and peace are worthy I’m sure
but doesn’t yearning drive us to act, to move forward?
How do I be still in all of this.
How do I find peace here
when I cannot quell my desire to be there?
Tomorrow I will tell a story to more people than I ever have before.
There will be no flowers waiting for me backstage with nicknames and in jokes.
There will be no soup on the stove waiting for me at home afterwards.
I will go home alone.
I will wake up alone.
I will go to the gym or I will hit snooze.
I will go to work and repeat.
There will be smiling faces in the crowd of those I love.
We will dine beforehand and hug afterwards.
They have seen me tell stories before.
There is love in my life.
I do love my own life.
I just yearn sometimes.