Left Alone with my Thoughts
Tonight was lonely.
The lady took an overnight shift for work, leaving me around 9:00 PM for the sterile hallways of the retirement community she inhabits for 40 hours a week. She takes the shifts from time to time to get a little extra cash in her pocket to pay for school. I’m proud of her.
But I miss her because my bed is a cold, lonely place without her.
As I typed that, a part of me rejected the notion that I’m dependent on a woman. It’s like a man’s man beat the stereotype right into my mind. All men are islands, we don’t need anyone to be self-sufficient.
Sure, we can live ours lives with food, shelter, and the NFL. We can go through life grunting with other men, calling each other pussies at every instance a woman’s voice enters our lives, and act like assholes until every person in our life hates us. We can do all of that while still staying alive.
But why would we? If saying that I’m lonely and miss the one person I love is a sign of weakness, slap a label on me and call me weak then.