Another holiday passed me by yesterday ... Independence Day. Ironic that the name of the holiday is Independence Day when the one and only reason I've found myself upset is because I'm independent. Also known as, I'm single.
I love holidays, ah well, I used to love holidays. I want to love holidays.
I've been single a long time, and really most days I'm ok with it. Even on previous holidays, I was ok with it because I always was single with many other singles. All of my friends and I shared a common thread in this, so we would make holiday parties fun. Many of us were orphans away from our families so we made holidays uniquely our own.
But, I'm finding myself in new territory. I’m near my family that gives growing pressure to be matched up and have a family of my own. Among all of those friends who were single, I’m one of the last to be unattached. Even the roommates who once could fill the void aren’t available.
Holidays come with anticipation. Everyone knows how hard it is to sleep the night before Christmas because Christmas day is going to be fun. For me, as each holiday (Independence Day, St. Patty’s, or Christmas) creeps up I have this mix of delight and anguish that bubbles inside me. I become acutely aware of my relationship status.
There are three parts to every holiday. There is before the main event, the main event, after the main event. Often one and 3 are overlooked because of the presence of other people. To me, they are the painful parts of the holidays that overshadow the main festivities almost every time.
I go to bed excited for the holiday. Then I wake up. When you wake up and there is no one to even say good morning to let alone share your excitement, the sparkle begins to fade. It fades quickly.
This is a glimpse of a holiday morning. I will: kill time until the festivities begin. Drink coffee. Kill more time. Go through phone contacts realizing no one is answering because they are with other people. Kill time. Check Facebook 101 times. Talk to myself. Drink more coffee. All the while wishing I was with someone. Anyone.
The time finally passes and I get to see my family and friends who are truly blessings to me. Nevertheless, I have to break through the cloud that has already settled earlier in the day. I can usually get through it fast and enjoy myself. Yet, I am hypersensitive to the fact that I am going to have to go home alone. Then I do.
The drive home is to the company of my radio. I unlock the door to a dark apartment. I want to recount the fun new memories or retell a joke I heard, but there are no ears to hear it.
Holidays leave me with a craving for someone special. It is not a craving for the romantic aspects of a relationship but the mundane aspects. I want someone to be in the same room as I am. I want to be able to sit on my couch, take a deep breath, and know someone is in the house with me. I want to hear the rustling of papers, the cabinet doors opening and shutting and footsteps shuffling on the carpet. I want the built in teammate for games, the person I get to share antidotes about and who is going to share them about me. I want the person who is automatically a passenger in the same car as me.
I read this blog and I understand how depressing it seems. There is a definite tinge of sadness to it, but as I said, I am generally happy with where I’m at in life. This blog and maybe a few others will touch on the issue of my singleness. It is not my favorite a topic to discuss because I sound like a broken record to myself, but it is a huge part of who I am. The other blogs I write won’t all be sad, but I’ve committed to myself in the least that I am not going to keep hidden the trials or the joys I go through. This is recent and weighing heavily on me so I lay it all out there.
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