Since my last post over a year ago, I have gone through a separation and subsequent divorce, house sale, bill and asset division and liquidation, finding my own place, part time single parenting, and generally learning how to do things on my own, all while dealing with a venomous ex. It has been a steep curve, yet I soldier on. Thankfully my family and friends have all been supportive. The emails and conversations with my Cali confidant have been the most helpful and insightful over the past years, keeping me grounded and calm, those are between her and I, and always will be.
Honestly, I'm finding myself happier alone many times, hiding in my apartment, doing things for myself, only getting out for work, or quality time with my little one, and more recently, some side photography work.
And yet, I've don't ever remember feeling so completely solitary and alone...
I know it hit me some more recently while in Boston a few weekends ago to do a photo shoot. I made it in town to meet with the model and makeup artist, but then had to wait until the makeup work was done. So as I stood there on Atlantic Ave at Rowes Wharf, with a backpack full of photo gear, a dead cell phone and an unknown wait time, I just stood and watched the masses move by. It ended up being about an hour wait as the prime afternoon glow started falling below the buildings, and still I watched. It was different to slow myself down when not parked on the couch. So there I was a captive audience to the lives that strolled by, tourist festooned with bags and cameras, natives casually strolling the summer dusk, others in their Sunday best heading for the party cruises. What struck me the most was how the majority of people travel in packs, whether it be the many couples, family's, or groups of friends, the lone were the vast minority. My people now.
On the other side of that coin though, I do miss touch and intimacy, but I don't know if I'm ready to date. I feel I'm going to be far to picky having been through an emotional ringer for the last ten to fifteen years. I'm as much at fault as the ex is though, I allowed the mental abuse and put up with it thinking that was how things were supposed to work. I know better now, I've learned a few things about how I want to be treated, about how to I would like to live.
I don't know what it is, but my emotive state has been out of sorts recently. Something like a powerful image or music lyrics really get to me. This past weekend sitting around alone especially. Maybe that's a part of what prompted this writing. Just more pieces.
I shape my destiny with a chisel,
I am the carpenter of my own soul.