The other half is torture.
I’m a silly and trivial woman. As strong as I felt about being alone before I am now feeling weak and subject to low desires. I miss R_____. I want to call him all the time. I want to see him and kiss his face. I want to hold his arm and make googly eyes at him. I want to pretend he is the one for me and that we are perfect for each other. I want to see a future with him.
There is part of me that understands this is my fear surfacing as desire. I know that this is a ruse to trick my logic into believe it is okay to give into the fear because “it’s what I want.” Knowing that doesn’t make it easier.
I know that it will pass if I just wait. If I’m strong and wait, I’ll be happier in the long run. If I don’t give into my urge to call him, I won’t regret rekindling an inappropriate relationship. Knowing that doesn’t make it easier.
And I have to keep telling myself, “I’m alone because this is what I’ve chosen, not because no one wants me.” This is the ego part of the equation, not the fear. To my fear I have to say, “Being alone is much better than being with someone that makes you unhappy. There is joy in being alone.”
And it hasn’t been that long and I know it may be a long time still until I find the right fit for me, in one regard or another. This is just the initial trial, the one I usually fail. I’m too old to keep failing at the same challenges. It’s time to grow up and learn self-restraint and self-discipline, no matter how lonely, scared or bored I get.
