Words. Two.

It’s Monday again! I’ve decided to share a journal entry I wrote four months ago (on a Monday). Examining my actions, thoughts and words whether they’re several weeks or several years in the past, can be cathartic. I always see something I didn’t before and recognize growth, no matter how infinitesimal it may be. Knowledge about myself and the universe; it’s a good thing. Even when it comes in dark packages.


July 2014


Picture it’s night and your neighbor’s drunken footfalls in the hall are keeping you awake. They’re off to something you don’t have. Sex. Love. Fun. Life…Under the moon you lay bitter at this revelation, the vulnerabilities, the lacking. Your dark places are illuminated.


Tonight I saw and felt the lines of loneliness in conversations with others. I felt raw and stripped bare because that’s me, and then it’s not. It hasn’t been for quite some time.


It seems as though most of my female friends are going through some form of romantic trauma. I don’t know what to say. I’m going through my own. Keep in mind these are women that have a lot to offer. Attractive — Some with fantastic careers, or others that are great housewives and mothers, adventurers, world travelers, and all the rest, but when it comes to love…




The moon is crazy like that. It brings out all the crazy in us. The crazy that allows us to revel in hopeful thinking for futile efforts. We lament about love that’s not there for us. We’re wishing, dreaming on starry skies.

I long for and loathe the night, and think about my friends and their circumstances. From the frustrating to the despairing I wonder, what hope do I have if shit’s this real with them? Really? I’m not even looking for marriage or happily ever – forever. I just want what one friend described as “butterflies.” I want friendship, passion, a dinner companion, a fellow traveler both near and afar.


Tonight I finished counseling a friend on the pitfalls of accepting less than what she’s worth. Pushing a relationship that the other person is not willing or able to invest equal time and effort into. But it’s hard to break free of those things. I know the feeling. Because what remains when you let go? Loneliness. No one wants to be lonely. No matter how much you/they/we embrace solitude, who really wants to be alone in the world?¬†Friends and family are great, but they’re never going to fill those intimate gaps, those dark and not so dark places we need touched and stroked and…you get my meaning.


Damn Mondays! I hate ’em.


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