time to rebuild

Loneliness. It’s a cocoon I’ve built around myself. And after so long, it begins to have a comfortable feel. I find that I don’t mind being alone. That I’m fine with my own thoughts. That I don’t need anyone to make me feel ‘complete’. And then with one fatal swoop, that whole thing is shattered.

The swoop’s name is Sharon.

Our date on Friday night has reminded me that, in fact, I am utterly and hopelessly alone.

Because I enjoyed my time with her. I drove home in a rose-colored haze of bliss. And throughout the rest of the weekend I kept wondering what she was doing, and thinking of how nice it would be to see her again. I had to admit the sad truth. The wall that I so carefully constructed, brick by brick, around my heart now had some major cracks in the foundation.

Following the proper date etiquette guidelines, I called her the very next day. There was no Sharon.

I called her again this evening. Still no Sharon.

And now my mind is a buzz with thoughts of ‘what did I do wrong?’ Did I order the wrong food, or wear the wrong outfit, or apply too much aftershave?

Were my amusing antidotes not so amusing? Was the kiss goodnight not one of my better kissing performances? What did I do that I shouldn’t have done? Or what didn’t I do that I should’ve done? Whatever the case, I just can’t help but think that the problem lies with me.

And, in my mind, it’s always me. I do, or don’t do, or say, or don’t say the one thing that would turn the me into an us. I keep rewinding and dissecting every little utterance and moment of that night, trying to find the exact moment when things fell apart. But no answers are ever revealed. Rather, I’m just left with an ache somewhere deep in my heart.

And it’s at times like this that I long for a return to that cocoon…the one I worked so hard to build. Because while it was lonely in there, at least it was safe.