The Writing Blues

The last few days, I sit down to write and somehow just don’t feel like it – lose my inspiration, no bright ideas popping into my head. It’s a full moon in Gemini, so you’d think it’d be easy to write, but it isn’t. I think the problem is, I want a real person to talk to. Now and then, like any single person I guess, I get the lonelies. I talk to my friends online – and am always thankful for the Internet – but at some point late in the evening, start to get wistful that the talking’s just on my screen. It seems like my life goes on just fine and happily most of the time, but I get ambushed by these sudden feelings of loneliness that come out of nowhere. I haven’t quite figured out what to do about them… what box to put them in, where to stow them until they go away and I can get on with life again.

Being really single with my own place for the first time in my life (at 42), I can say there are some things I really like about it. My schedule is my own – and being a person with a very odd schedule, that’s no small thing. I can sleep and wake when I need to, and my health and sanity benefits from that. I’m pretty much of a neatnik, but at the same time, if I just feel like not doing the dishes until later – I can (fortunately that doesn’t get out of hand!). My cat and I share a love of quiet, solitude, and peace in the house.

From all this I am sensing that it’s going to take some doing for me to ever want to entirely share a house with someone else again. I could be totally wrong about that, but I’m envisioning somehow a committed relationship with private spaces – separate houses or some kind of interesting arrangement. Some of my friends and I have talked about having a semi-communal living space someday – a large piece of land (in my dreams with a forest, stream, beach…) where each person has their own little cabin but we all share a garden, communal kitchen and gathering space, library, hot tub… The perfect blend of solitude and company.

In the meantime though, until this utopian vision can somehow be realized, there are those nights like tonight when I would have liked nothing more than to have someone here to make dinner with, enjoy interesting conversation, cuddle on the couch, sleep next to, and wake up to. I kinda miss that reading the morning paper after a nice night before, casually enjoying your cheerios together while exclaiming about the politics in the editorial section :) It’s hard to know what to do with that need when there’s really no choice but to just wait until it goes away, as you can’t just conjure up someone temporary – or even if you could, it wouldn’t feel the way it needs to feel.

Ah well… it’s late. At least I have my cat. When she cuddles up next to me and drapes her little arms and head on mine, I feel a little comfort and company :) Time for bed…