It was a great party last night. The house filled with family. The fridge stocked full to bursting with drinks and food, a big buffet, cocktails, karaoke, laughter and fun.
When the last guests leave though and it’s just me in the house, still surrounded by bunting and balloons but just the sound of the dishwasher whirling to replace the noise of the hustle and bustle, that’s when reality sets in.
Feeling like I need to do something, anything, but this lethargy takes over and I’m just sat here on my very comfortable sofa and I see how beautiful my house is and how much of my identity and personality is already imprinted on it but there’s something missing, or should I say someone missing.
A complex, deep thinking soul, usually I’m good with my own company. I don’t need a second person to have intelligent conversations. Still, I crave the comfort of a good woman I can share my life with. Life is a journey best shared.
Someone I can hold in my arms, make her feel safe. Make her feel like the only person in the world that matters. I imagine what it would be like to be in a loving relationship again. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin and the taste of her lip gloss and the smell of her hair as I hold her tight and don’t let go.
I want the butterflies. I want the magic. I want to make her laugh, the long road trips. It all seems so distant and I have to remind myself that it can happen again, it will happen again, I will make it happen. I’m worthy of love.
It’s not going to be easy. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy but one day I will look back on this day and I will remember how it felt and I will be proud of how I climbed that mountain. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.
