The Unnatural-ness of Being Alone

I’m good. I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T. Ms. Independent; that’s why I love her. Me, myself, and I. The list goes on and on. Do you realize that every blade of grass bends in the same direction? It’s true, for each blade of grass bends toward the sun. If someone plants two flowers side by side, over time, their roots will join, thereby, uniting the flowers. Trees are connected. Seasons are connected. Animals are connected. Why is there such an extraordinary disconnect amongst humans? Why do we continually try to convince ourselves that we are stronger when we are alone? For a large part of my life, I have (unsuccessfully) tried to convince myself that I’m good with being alone. I have tried to convince myself that I didn’t need anyone for anything. I have tried to convince myself that as long as my dwelling contained nice things, I was fine with being the only resident. That may single handedly, be the biggest lie that I have ever told myself. I am not okay with that. In fact, I’d rather share a small apartment filled with love than live in a mansion filled with things that feel nothing. I am beginning the understand both the power and necessity of love. Not too long ago, I endured a break up that opened me up. It opened me up to what I could be, and it also made my feelings crystal clear. I desire to be a part of a family. Everyone deserves that. I desire to have someone on the other side of my door that legitimately loves me. Everyone deserves that. I desire to have my yesterdays and tomorrows include the same person or people. Family and love. I desire family and love. Now, I’ll be the first person to tell you that once upon a time, sex was my go to. The problem with meaningless sex is that it leaves you emptier than you were before you began. I had lovers, but I didn’t have love. I was too ignorant to realize that just because we were able to share our bodies, it didn’t necessarily means that we were able to share our feelings and our hearts. In fact, I have had lovers that I had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in common with. Sex was our only commonality, and when my body began to crave touch, they would receive a call from me. Here’s the problem; when I needed to really talk, my lovers had nothing to talk about. When I needed a shoulder to cry on, my lovers lacked time, empathy, and/or understanding. When I needed, my lovers weren’t there. I wish it to be known that they weren’t there because some of them didn’t want to be there. They weren’t there because I didn’t want them to be there. I was keenly aware that I was making love to them. I wasn’t sharing love with them. At this point in my life, I desire to share love. I want to make a life as much as I desire to make love. For me, for Patrick, independence is no longer adequate for extended periods of time. I know now that I must be willing to listen as much as I am willing to speak. I know now that I must be willing to do things that I don’t necessarily enjoy because the person that I love does. I know now that I must be patient even when I don’t want to be.  I know now that I must be understanding as much as I want to be understood.  I know now that I must be willing to tear down the walls that I have built around my heart because those walls are now beginning to feel like a prison. I know now that true love is about we, not me. I know now. Now, I know that true love is both natural and organic. With that being said, I am relinquishing myself of the synthetic form of love called empty sex. No more. I pray that God hears me. At this point in my life, I’m more interested in a woman’s mind than her ability to sexually bend. I am more interested in a life than a night. I’m not lonely. I’m sometimes surrounded by hordes of people. I’m alone. To me, there’s a distinct difference between the two. I’m simply tired of being alone. Until next time, this week, do something for someone else other than yourself for no other reason than to make their day better. If you make it to where you’re going, don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us. Patrick

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