I am alone. My new reality. And there isn’t anything anybody can do about it. But me.
I have been alone for almost a year now. Not in the sense of having nobody around me. But in the sense of being, well, alone. Because my wife passed away. Because I am no longer a party of two. Because I am by myself. I am alone and it sucks.
I write this as I am crying. Remember I am emotional now. Remember there are things that set me off. In this case it was a movie. One that I have seen before. One that isn’t normally my type of movie, but one that I enjoyed very much the second time. More so then the first. One that caused the emotions to flow. Those emotions that I am not scared of anymore. The emotions that come because I am alone. Not by choice.
The movie in question? Safe Haven. A definite chick flick. But one that resonates with me. It has to do with a widower who meets a transient woman and falls in love with her, to live happily ever after. Or something like that. Obviously that part isn’t what resonates with me. It is the part of being widowed. Obviously.
The movie is set in Southport, North Carolina. A town I visited right before I left the state. A town that is more beautiful than it looks in the movie. The type of town I look forward to discovering in my journey.
A dear friend of mine just watched the movie for the first time and convinced me I should watch it again. She was right. She understands the movie. She, and I, are part of a particular group. Not the type of group you want to be a member of. We are widowed. And only we, along with our other group members, knows what this means. We are alone.
After I had decided to live in a travel trailer, but before I actually pulled the trigger, certain other dear friends of mine expressed some concern about me traveling around the country by myself. In my current mental state. What they don’t understand is that it doesn’t matter where I am. Who I surround myself with. What I am doing. I am alone. It is the way it is for now. The way it needs to be.
I am alone and not many people understand that. Fortunately for them. I may look like I have my shit together on the outside, but inside I am alone. Suffering. Hurting. Confused. Talking it day by day. Hoping that tomorrow will be a bit better then today. And it usually is. But I am still alone.
I keep using the word “alone” because I don’t know how else to describe it. I don’t expect you to understand. Unless you are part of that group that nobody wants to be a part of, you won’t understand. Be thankful for that. And accept me for who I am. Let me embrace my aloneness. Be there for me in the best way that you can. But know that I am alone and there isn’t anything you can do to help me with this. It is my thing to work through. To conquer. To embrace. To accept.
I won’t always be alone in the sense of not being in a relationship. At least I hope I won’t. But for now I must be alone.
I am done crying. For now. But it won’t be the last time. I am alone. And it is a journey that I must take. One that will cause me to cry. To laugh. To enjoy. That will make me a better person. A stronger man. Being alone can be good. Trust me.