Finding company
in solitude-- whispering
Pines, moonlit Shadows.
The hardest part about adventuring alone is enjoying the adventure alone. Not the navigating or the planning or the expenses. But more specifically, everywhere I go alone, I wish I was with my boyfriend. I’m not afraid to be alone and actually quite value my solitude where I can be myself and recharge. But every time I experience something new, I just wish I was experiencing it with him. I imagine every possible look that might come across his face, that tinkle that would catch in his eye, what he might say, his opinion on the matter. Whether I feel awe-struck or inspired or whimsical, I want him to feel it with me. When I sit down to enjoy a meal at a new restaurant I think, “Boy, he would love this dish!” Or “I bet if he were here he would have ordered this.” When I catch a sunset in the rearview mirror, I wonder when the sun set for him and if he saw it. A glance at my watch sparks inquiry into what time the clock reads where he is and if he’s thought of me today. My mind can’t help but wander to the what-ifs. My heart can’t help but wallow in what is not.
Sometimes adventures are short– a work trip here, an extended weekend there. But sometimes they are long. My newfound adventure in particular. For the foreseeable future my boyfriend and I will be in a long-distance relationship and I have to accept that the twinkle that comes across my eye, the knowledge that I am experiencing something new and expanding my horizons, my own present-ness, must be enough. I have to get up and get out, even if that means going it alone. Because if I wait for that magical moment, that perfect time when we are both together because our schedules finally match, before I know it, my life will be gone, spent waiting instead of enjoying.
