Struggles/choices

This is the struggle. I love my apartment. I love that it’s mine – at least for four months. I love that there is no one here but Twyla. I love being able to decide where things go and how to arrange things without consulting anybody. It’s a luxury I haven’t had for 17 years.

But I am alone.

That’s the struggle. To the point that I almost want my old life back. At least I was lonely with company. Okay, I know, I already hear all of you out there groaning and saying, no, stop, don’t be stupid. I realize that this is not even a real possibility and I know that this life now is going to be – and already is – so much better. And I love my life when I’m with my friends, like tonight. Went to hear Alison Pipitone at Genghis Cohen with Zadra and Damon and their charming friend, Mike. Then off to Koji’s and Chairman and Monica and Patty, et al, which is slowly turning into Koji’s dance club. Bunches of fun.

But I come home alone.

I’m trying to accept that this is time for me to learn about myself, find myself, define myself without someone else influencing that. I’m trying to be open to that luxury of exploration, contemplation of my own navel instead of someone else’s. But I’d love to contemplate another’s navel right now.

I know part of it is that the apartment is nowhere near together. I’ve had a crazy busy insane week of work and some socializing so things are not as they should be. And I don’t do well with my environment in chaos. I did some things today that I hope will remedy that.

But I ache right now for someone to wrap their arms around me. I see my other friends who have left one relationship and gone right into another and I see their struggle with whether that was the right thing for them and I see all the issues that doing that brings up. But at least they have someone to hold them, and someone who’s trying to figure it out with them.

I guess because I spent so many years with someone figuring it out for me without letting me have any input that I should really focus on this time and on who I am, defining who I am. That’s so hard because I was never allowed to look at that. I was never given the time to say, I’m Susan, I’m __________________. It was, I’m his wife, I’m his editor, I’m his director.

I’ve made lists before about who I am. Mostly a long list of adjectives. I guess now the difficult part is looking past those adjectives and defining the complex compound sentences that describe who I am and who I want to be. Part of it is who is Susan, the artist. But a big part of it is who is Susan, the person. I feel like I’m reaching out to grasp on to something to give me a clue as to who I should be. And I guess there’s always been somebody there to tell me. Maybe that’s why I’m longing for someone. At least they could tell me who I am supposed to be instead of making me figure it out for myself.

And that’s where the problems come in. I guess I should be grateful that things aren’t/didn’t/probably won’t work out with the OOMA because, as wonderful and incredible as I think he is, his influence cannot help but shape me, as much as I don’t think he would mean to. Maybe that’s been a big part of why I haven’t done anything to really move it forward. Maybe that’s the heart of my hesitation. How can I find myself if I have someone else helping me? Is that possible?

I’ve never had to define myself in my adult life because there has always been a man in my life to do that. So, as hard as it is, I will have to accept that this is time to be alone, time to find me. And let the glorious possibility of OOMA land in someone else’s arms and make someone else’s life rich and complete. I think he will always be in my life and I am truly grateful for that. I just have to put the heart part of it away and lock it up until I am fully formed and ready to stick my foot out again. I know he won’t be there by the time I’m done and that’s the price, I guess. There’s always a price, a sacrifice with choice. And this is a choice I have to make for me. Maybe, by some slim chance, by the time I figure things out, he’ll still be around, still be available and will find the whole, complete me irresistible. Yeah, ‘cause life works that way.