Yesterday I woke up to a purring cat. Thomas is always happy in the morning when my
alarm goes off because he knows it is time for breakfast. I think he is even happier lately because
he’s on a diet and he really relishes the 2/3 cup of Healthy Metabolism he gets
on most days (on even better days he gets a can of Fancy Feast and his eyes get
real big and he runs around excited as I open the can up). I fed him and got back in bed for a bit to
continue reading my book from the night before (I’m currently trying to read
all of the books longlisted for this year’s Baileys Women’s Prize for
Fiction). I got up, showered and made a
breakfast burrito. I cleaned up the
house a bit and worked in the garden. I
finished my book and started on a new one (Modern Love by Aziz Ansari). Looked through some cookbooks and decided
what I wanted to eat for the next week.
Made a grocery list and got in my car.
I have Emeli Sande in my CD player.
I cried on the way to the grocery store wondering if I shouldn’t have
broken up with Leland last month. Maybe
he was my only shot. I did my grocery
shopping and came home. I cried again on
the way home (you try listening to Emeli Sande without crying). I put my groceries away and started making
some things. Apple tarragon granita.
Caprese pasta salad. Ice cubes with
lemon peels, blueberries and herbs from my garden. I read a bit longer and when the granita was
ready I put Orphan Black on my laptop (which you should watch, even if there is
a strange amount of man butt in it) and ate the granite while watching four
episodes. Leland texted me. Near the end of our texting conversation he
asked if I missed him, if he could come visit.
I cried some more. This would
happen on a lonely, lovely day. When I’m
feeling weak and regretful. I told him
no and that I was going to bed. I read
some more and went to sleep.
Today is another day off.
I woke up to a purring cat again.
Fed him. Got back in bed and read
for a bit. Decided I wanted chocolate
pancakes for breakfast and made some.
Made an absolute mess of the kitchen but I’ve got time before church to
clean it up. Tomorrow is another day off
and then I work three days in a row before I have another four days off. My schedule would be wonderful if I weren’t
feeling so lonely most of the time.
The truth is, I have three friends in Nashville. And they’re all nurses. And our schedules overlap a lot and you
basically don’t do anything but work on the days that you work (it takes up the
entire day) and then you don’t do anything the night before work because you
need to sleep and the day after work is kind of a day of recovery. I’ve been lucky enough to have three friends
visit in the last month (Kyle, Rochelle and Ariel). And Stacie is coming in the beginning of
May. My dad wants to come visit this
month, too. But I feel like I have no
connections here. I’ve worked three of
the last four Sundays and the one I didn’t work was General Conference weekend. Institute happens as I’m getting off of work
or the night before I work so I haven’t been yet. I’ve met two cool girls at church and haven’t
seen them since then. I haven’t clicked
with people at work enough to try to form a friendship outside of work. I need to go to some YSA branch activities
but I honestly don’t know if I have it in me or even really know how to start
trying to make friends again. I’m
incredibly lucky to have a job that I absolutely love. I have a ton of free time. I’m going to be able to make my student loan
payments. I live with the best cat in the
world. I don’t have a roommate that I
can’t stand to be around. I get to read
so much and cook food and garden. My
house looks how I want it to look.
But there are days where I only hear my voice as I talk to
Thomas. I wonder why the majority of my
friends have been blessed to find people to marry, why they’re on kids number
three and four, and why I listen to Emile Sande and cry in my car. I wonder what it is that I’m supposed to
learn or prove before I’m allowed the same blessings they are. I wonder when
I’ll stop feeling anger and bitterness when I hear of someone new who has
gotten engaged or found out they’re pregnant.
I’m having a hard time being happy for others and I hate that about
myself. I wonder how old I’ll be before
I stop hoping to find love and accept that it’s just not coming my way. 30?
35? 40? 60? I
worry that I’ll be this lonely for the rest of my life. I could really do with a companion. Can I just make another friend like Marie to
live with and share my life with and have someone to do things with and cook
with and watch Grey’s Anatomy with? I
don’t even need a spouse. I just need
companionship.
There are also times during these days that I find myself
thinking that I am really lucky. I think
about my friends with children and what they’ve had to give up. I think about friends who post twenty times a
day on Facebook about their child.
Friends where the highlight of their week is getting to take a quiet
shower on their own. Friends juggling
home and work and trying to figure out what works for their family and never
being satisfied with the balance. They
don’t have enough time at home or they’ve lost the prestige they once had with
academia because now they stay at home.
Women who are overlooked because “all they do is stay at home” and how
boring is that? (Disclaimer: I don’t
think this last sentence, more I’ve had friends express that as soon as they
mention that they are a stay at home mom their new acquaintances shy away). Sometimes it seems like none of us will ever
be truly satisfied or happy. What a
dismal thought that is.
