One is the loneliest number

My Favourite Husband and I. I miss him.

Today I ache with loneliness.

Lonely wrapped its arms around me and pulled me close. Lonely seeped into my heart, crept into my soul and settled in for a visit. 

I’m an independent woman; someone who’s been on her own for almost two years now, long enough to know the difference between being alone and being lonely. For me, being alone is calming, quieting, resetting. Being lonely is being rudderless, adrift, standing on a deck that rocks violently and knowing that as I crash from side to side, there are no arms to hold me, steady me. 

I ache for strong, steady arms. 

For so much of my life, it was My Favourite Husband who pulled me in close, held me, made me feel safe and secure. Even when I carried the bulk of everyday responsibilities on my shoulders, I could count on him to be a safe harbour to keep lonely at bay. We were always in partnership together until death do us part.

I ache for those arms.

Right at this very moment in time, I understand why people search for a partner in life. I was not sure I’d ever to be with someone again, to share my life again. I thought being alone was OK and it is. But lonely is not.

So I’m sitting and writing and crying. I’m trying to decide if being strong, self reliant and independent is a worthy price to pay for not “looking,” “chancing,” or “risking” my heart to being bold and seeking a life where loneliness is cast out and away.

I ache for strong, steady arms.

❤️