Saturday night thoughts of the terminally single.

Love.


It's a word. So many fear it. Not the actual feeling, but the word. I say it to my children every day. My family, loved ones. The last man I said that word to who was not related to me, well that was the day I got divorced. For the second time.

I typed it once. To a man I was with on and off for 3 years. What I got in return was silence. Perhaps it came a couple years too late, who knows. Pretty sure he was scared. He said to me one time, "I think I loved you." I responded by running to the bathroom and bawling my eyes out. (Long story, not going into details on that situation) It confused me, it was in the past tense, so it kind of stung a little. You either love someone or you don't and once you do, it doesn't go away. It may change to a different kind of love, but it's still there. We just can't leave each other alone. Some would say typing it doesn't count and sometimes I tell myself that to feel better. I haven't said that word to a man romantically since 2009. I'm not sure if I ever will again.

I've been terrified of the word ever since.

So much power in such a little word. I don't remember the last time it was spoken to me in a romantic sense. I'm not sure if I ever will hear it again. I don't really HAVE to, because if someone showed me, it would be enough, I think. I think it would be enough just to have someone hold me.

But, I'll be honest. It's lonely here.

I miss it. I miss it so much it hurts.

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