Things have not been going well for me recently. My hopes and expectations that my old country, the United States of America, would do the right thing and elect its first female president, were dashed. Seemingly dashed. There remains the possibility that Don Trumpinocchio knew more than he revealed when he claimed that the election had been rigged. Now I tend to think it might even have been rigged by the Ruskies. Oh well! What’re ya gonna do, eh?
Then I bought my girl friend of five years two bouquets of flowers simply as a gesture to say, “I love you.” She was out when I brought them to her door, so I simply left them for her to see upon her return. Minutes later, she was at my door, returning the flowers I had given her and telling me it was over between us! No wait! This happened two weeks before the election. Nothing much seems to have been right in my life since that first shoe dropped upon my heart.
It was further frustrating for me when the woman I loved so dearly could give no compelling reason for letting me go. There had been no incident, no argument, no bitterness, no rancour, no infidelity. We had recently returned from a trip to Venice! I couldn’t help but wonder if she had done what I had once done in my youth – let your love go because you believe that letting your lover go is best for him/her – an act of “true (though sacrificial) love.” https://jjacobik.wordpress.com/2016/11/05/on-board/ She said it was not the case of her sacrificing, but admitted it would probably be best for me in the long run.
Since then I’ve been trying to regroup my sensibilities. I reluctantly went back on-line, trying to connect with women who, like me, were trying to put a special relationship back in their lives with their sexual opposite. I’m glad that on-line dating is an option. I know that there was a time when a community might help bring two lonely souls together, but I don’t live in that community. Though I’m sure such a thing still exists, I am not part of it. For most people that community was cancelled when Little House on the Prairie was no longer being produced.
So I’m on-line, spreading my tail feathers and giving them all a good, mesmerizing shake, trying to draw the pea-hens just a little bit closer. Well, on-line dating is not really like that at all. In fact it is like trying to live life like a tiny fly spot on a yo-yo, spinning ‘round as one climbs the string to an emotional high then spinning ‘round as one descends quickly to an emotional low, only to be jerked back up again with attentions from a promising new gal, then descending again without benefit of rest.
All of that woe! Yet here I am, living life, searching for another woman who might care for me and for whom I might care. Beside me lies a bowl full of freshly washed blackberries with their shiny black buds ready to burst open and quickly disintegrate in my mouth, providing sweetness and gently-biting fruit acids for me to savour, antioxidants to nourish me. I’m not Voltaire’s Candide, constantly enjoying the best of all possible worlds. I’m not even Pollyanna, though my former girlfriend has laid that accusation upon me more than once, especially when I celebrate having to go upstairs because of the ‘incidental exercise’ it will provide to me.
With blackberries by my side, adequate warmth and shelter around me and the world’s greatest composers playing music in my den, I’m not going to complain about the injustices of life. Doing so would only serve to dull or to mitigate my appreciation of what I have. I have almost everything! But I’m walking alone!