I wonder what I will make of this time when it is over. Will it seem like an oasis of calm or a void that I am grateful to be out of? Or will I be more certain of the importance of this space and time in the future in a way I cannot be now?
This is the first time I have lived alone. It is a strange existence, there is now no one to DO for except myself and instead of this feeling a liberation it feels more like a casting off. No one needs me, except myself and I don’t want me, I want someone else. I am not even sure who, because actually I have become much less patient, much less bovinely compassionate, much more demanding and less resigned, much more easily upset and over excited and much more certain of my own opinions and so possibly more boorish too.
What an attractive package that all makes (insert ironic eyebrow raise here) and yet I challenge that too. Am I here to be kind, generous, nice or beautiful and who is that for anyway? I pass a mirror and check, eyes, still blue grey, hair, still silver, body, still slender with the pouch where my babies sat and stretched still visible, legs still good but knees wrinkling. A momentary thought – should I spend less time with legs crossed – is chased out with derision,. What?, whaaat??? Do that, change this, for who, for what, to what end? Since we will all come to an end sometime, does any of this matter, make any sense, ADD anything to the world?
I have blogged solidly for a year now, to some welcome interest and kind comments from those whose opinions I respect and yet I come to this point wondering about stopping. Wondering who and what this is for and whether eye, my alter ego, could or would survive if I stopped posting naked and provocative pictures of myself online, and if there were none of those accompanying my writing whether anyone would be interested in it at all. I am thinking not many but recognise that this could just be a jaundiced view, born out concentrating on lack rather than abundance and I apologise for that. I do appreciate everyone I have interacted with here but I still feel outside even though this makes me feel very ungrateful for the kind comments I have had. Others have written about awards and their responses to their inclusion or otherwise. For me they have reflected where I thought I was anyway. Outside.
I have come to the knowledge that this is not a sex blog, I don’t fit in those categories. This is a blog that sometimes includes sex, sexuality, relationships of all kinds in its content. There is erotica here too but not enough to really fulfil that particular niche. I find fiction hard to write, since it is not an escape but a telling for me, and those opportunities have been rare and few and far between this year. My blog reflect that as it also includes a kind of journaling, sometimes more a weeping and a railing against life and where I find myself in it and is not attractive, I know this.
So here I am sitting at the end of 2016 and wondering whether to jump into this particular pool again in 2017. I had hoped that by now I would be swallow diving gracefully into the clear blue of warm water rather than still sitting at the edge wondering which bit to jump into but c’est la vie. We bring ourselves with us into whatever new year it is, we have no choice about that and I am no exception.
I remain commited to living the best, fullest life I can for the rest of how ever long I have left here. For that reason alone I think I would struggle not to write. It provides me with an access to me that I need and want. Whether or not I need to visit that on anyone else next year remains to be seen.
I wish you and your loved ones the best 2017 that is possible.