Prosies - of course I miss it

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Prosies

If you like me,
you'll like them too:
Annalisa
Bitter Girl
Sooz
Green Fairy
Jay
Jeanette Winterson
Jen Langley
Maganda
Zeldman

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August 11, 2003

Yes, of course I miss it. I miss our clean house, the large and lovely painting of the French countryside that graced the wall of the dining room at the end of the long hallway. I miss the gentle round arches of the doorways in that home. I miss the stainless steel refrigerator it took us three years to decide to buy.

I miss my garden. I miss the cats. Oh, how much I miss the cats, my little Loki who would come to me and purr and purr and put his little paw up to my face with his unconditional love.

I miss laying around on Sunday mornings, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

I miss our weekends by the ocean.

I miss walking into Crate & Barrel and looking at housewares together, with a commanding and snobbish air. I miss the illusion that there was someone to watch over me, to protect me, to take care of me. I miss being part of a lesbian couple.

I just don't miss being lonely with her there beside me. I don't miss feeling stifled, limited, I don't miss feeling that I am missing out on things so that I can please her. I don't miss constantly worrying about how much information it's okay to reveal about our relationship, because she has different standards of privacy than I do.

Now that I am single again, I'm not nearly as lonely as I was when we were together. I have time to explore parts of the city I never saw when we were together. I do things I didn't have time for when were together—simple things, like exploring the gardens and side streets of my new neighborhood. I found out why that bar in Central Square is called the Cantab Lounge. It's because Cambridge residents are known as Cantabridgians. Cantab for short.

I'm enjoying the summer.

I spend less time seeing the city through the soundproofed windows of her car, and more time interacting with it directly.

Sure, it's lonely sometimes. Sure, sometimes I am sad. Many times, I am sad.

But it's a different kind of sadness than what's been running below the surface for the past few years. It's an honest sadness. I'm not trying to convince myself I'm happy anymore.



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© 2003 Frances Donovan. Violators will get what's coming to them.