Over the past month, I have been alone about 3 weeks of it. Between training, a trip to comicon, and now a trip with the kids, G has been out of town. So, I have spent most of July alone.
I recall a time when I craved alone time. I recall a time when I would just go into my own little bubble of a world – and be happy people were ignoring me. Now, I have discovered, I don’t like it. Some alone time is good – too much is bad.
Too much gives me too much time to think.
Too much gives me too much time to realize how much I hate alone.
Sure I can get some shit done, but I have no one to talk to. I have no one to share my day with. I have no one to just sit and be with or do something with. I have no affection. I have no hugs or kisses or anything of the sort.
I am alone.
What sucks even more is the fact my play partner has also been out of town most of the month. So, there are no choices there. I was going to the munch and soaking in the hugs. On one of my bad days where all kinds of shit had hit the fan and I was just done and alone – one of my male friends just reached across the table and held my hand. That small act of intimacy almost brought me to tears. I realized how much I had missed it. Missed having that in my life for a month. Missed those simple acts of kindness and affection. Missed having someone at home that would hold my hand as I was unwinding from my day.
Later on, he was standing behind me, slid his hand under my shirt, and just started stroking my skin – almost like he was calming a cat. I leaned into him, closed my eyes, and just savored the connection and affection. When we were all leaving, he and his wife both game me huge hugs and kisses. I was happy to have them.
Another friend of mine tonight commented that it was what I was missing – in general – the intimacy. I have play partners and such, but I don’t have the intimacy that I have had in the past. That sort of connection where we can have dinner or a drink or coffee – and we can talk and hold hands and curl up together. Intimacy.
I miss it.