Poem: Clandestine


Rising again

lips drenched

from former kisses

the taste of dissipating sweet

arising to awareness

And filtering rays

lay like lovers

resting softly nearby

The visits

are now clandestine

quiet furtive touches

felt briefly–barely

and then are lost

Laying still

feeling lingering longing

layered on remembering

will it never leave

as the endless nights

continue on

alone

 

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Honey, I’m Home!


Recently I was watching a video (a funny one) that was on one of the late night shows about how there are these Robots with AI that are being used for certain ‘relationships’ I won’t really get into here. I’m not sure if it was real or humor in response to all the out pouring of sexual harassment allegations that have hit the news lately. In any case, it was a moment’s pause where laughing was medicine in an otherwise very un-funny situation.

But the whole idea made me think. Having been a single woman for a very long time, I wondered about the concept of Robot companions–not at all in the way that this particular video mentioned, but maybe more like an R2D2 sort of way. Could this be a possibility for the future? Our own home companions or partners?

I mean, let’s face it: I’ve “been there, done that” and bought every possible T-shirt for trying to date and find the right person for me. Over the course of years I’ve been single (and I’ve actually lost count now of the years), and the stories I could tell about the weirdos I’ve come across on the websites would make hanging out with a machine seem like heaven. Humans are scary and/or boring.

Picture it: instead of pouring through 100’s of  old photos and fake profiles of humans, you could simply pick out which Robot best suits your needs; short, tall; human looking (creepy) or not; male voice, female voice; appendages or just lights. Then, you could have the AI programmed to whatever things you enjoy or are interested in–think of all the data that could go in there. No more dates with someone who is clueless! Ah the dinner discussions!

Honestly, I’m not so interested in much of an emotional attachment anymore, although some of these Robots you see in movies are pretty darn cute, way cuter than some of the people I’ve tried to date! It’s all about communication anyway at my age, or maybe even helping out around the place. So if you read a good book together, you could discuss it. Or maybe go to a movie together. There could be special all terrain Robots built for hiking too.

The possibilities are really endless here. Robots are filling in so many areas of our lives anyway, why not becoming part of our family? Yes, I understand there is a bit of a spooky part of it; the whole bit of them taking over the world, infiltrating our homes and getting smarter than we are (which isn’t a stretch really). Sure, this could certainly happen…

But before they do decide to take over, having a companion that’s smart, reliable, predictable, neat, sympatico and maybe even agreeable would be such a nice change. And maybe having one on your side might just be an advantage when push comes to shove and Robots gain power over us.

Because, if there are bad ones, then there will be good ones, and they will be the ones we shared our homes with and loved.

Memories….


 

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A quiet night here…just remembering holidays past. Snow and cold and kids. Nothing like that now.

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No warm fires, or decorations or happy voices…or mad wrapping…

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Nope, those days are long gone. And only memories to cherish as my Christmas gift. And thank goodness for those!

 

 

Return To Silence


What’s the old saying: “Pleasure is 9/10 anticipation”.  Ain’t that the truth! Well, in some cases it certainly seems so anyway.

There are times where we can drum ourselves up into thinking that something will be way better than the reality of what actually happens. Then it can be a let down or a disappointment in some way. Or, at the very least, it can give us a new outlook on our lives, the way we do things or what we may have been thinking about our future.

That’s certainly what happened with the recent visit with my friend. Not that I had built it up into some great expectation. I have known this person for many years, and our relationship has gone through many convolutions over the past. So I knew the potential for the visit to be a certain way (boring, not what I might hope etc.) was very real.
But even when one knows ahead of time that things might not be wonderful, it’s still a bit of a downer when those expectations are filled! I guess as a hopeful individual, one can still think that another person might have changed a bit, or grown, or wants different things at this stage of the game.

In the end though, I’ve learned by now, that in order for people to really change in any way (great or small)–it takes very hard work and concentration, which most folks can’t give or don’t have. And most people either don’t realize or believe they need changing. Maybe they don’t either–it’s only according to someone else’s perception.

So where does that leave things? Well, a visit within tight quarters for almost a week can become uncomfortable and tiresome. For me, as someone used to living alone for many years now, I began to ache for my solitude. My patience and sense of being a good hostess begins to wan. All I really wanted was my space back…  It’s not that I disliked the other person, but I began to see all the little things about them that make me realize why I live alone now.

For years I have gone back and forth in my head about living alone. Will I be OK this way for the long haul? Is there something inadequate with me that makes it hard for me to be around others? Am I safe by myself? Am I truly happy this way? But I see others more and more living as I do and I find I am not so unusual. Many of us have come to this place after years of living with other people. And now we live alone by choice.

As we grow older, it is easy to become isolated, but the need for space and solitude also becomes a treasure. The years given in service to others–kids, spouses, pets, jobs, parents, families–can bring you to a point where the peace of one’s home is a blessing.

Having guests over is not a bad thing by any means, especially when they contribute to the well-being of one’s life and soul. But the return to the quiet when they leave is a sound I am also grateful to hear.

Men


Ah men. There have been so many. There have been husbands and lovers. There have been stalkers and sweethearts. Too many to count on fingers and toes even if I were a centipede. They have been large and scrawny; short and tall. Mostly not terribly dashing, but some not bad looking. Nowadays balding, but back then full heads of lovely hair. Some as athletic as me, but now mostly with hypertension. There have been drunks, debtors, whiners, yellers, creatures of habit, creatures of the night and seemingly knights in shining armor. But now here I am alone. No man.

My friends tell me I should write a book. Like about the one eyed midget with teeth that could make a vampire envious. Or the self proclaimed Unitarian Universalist that I found myself in a rather scary situation with when he decided to go all S & M on me. Or how about when I got on the cop kick (I know, my bad)…the one that just couldn’t stop playing the dominance game. I’ll just leave at that! You just can’t make this stuff up!

Ah men! They intrigue, they frustrate, they satisfy. Well, they must because I keep playing at this dance with them. Every time I swear I won’t do it again, another comes along and seems, well, different. At first. More mellow, funnier maybe, has a job, doesn’t smell like alcohol (at first)-or something that first lures me in. Or maybe I’m just horny? Whatever the case, I put myself out there again, tell my story over again; sounding in my head like a broken record. Ugh. And step on the conveyor belt of ‘relationship’ again only to find that it’s really the down escalator to the men’s department where no woman belongs. And I step off, lost in this world of unfamiliar stuff: man stuff. Anger, lack of communication, distance, compartmentalization of emotions, sex without love. I run around quickly trying to find the up escalator to get me the heck out of there as fast as I can.

At first the loss of these ‘relationships’ hurt. I cried and wept and felt like it was me. I was a bad woman. But when the revolving door of men came and went, I began to reflect. Was it really me? Was I the dumper or the dumpee? And I realized that I had told most of them to leave! This was a huge epiphany. Sure, there were maybe a grossly large number of them in and out. And the guys at work tease me about this fact. My kids, too, would roll their eyes and wouldn’t want to hear about yet another guy in Mom’s life. But hey, I wasn’t about to waste one extra second with someone that didn’t work for me. So the door kept revolving.

A dear friend of 30 years visited a while ago with her partner. When I first knew her she, too, was married to a man. She rolled in and out of relationships with men and women through the years. Loving the one she was with at the time. I told them about my ‘man’ troubles and they tried to convince me it was time to be in a relationship with a woman. It was a very interesting conversation that only old and dear friends can have! No, I don’t think that’s the road I’m on yet, although I do see the value in it for sure. Women get women. There’s not that disconnect that seems to happen between men and women. But not the closet I’m visiting yet.

But the gap between most men and women can seem like the Grand Canyon at times. Does it go back to caveman times? Is it hardwired in our brains to think differently and now we carry these differences with us no matter how hard we try not to? It seems the  kids now that my generation has raised is slightly different in how they interact with one another. I don’t see as much gender stuff between them on the surface. And of course, laws are structured for equality and society preaches a gentler relationship between the sexes now too. But deep down the undercurrent of the male/female conflict still exists.

So what’s the answer then? For me? For women everywhere? How do I personally learn to peacefully coexist with the male species in an intimate relationship? Or do I?  As I’ve progressed in years and run the course of these crazy (and some good) relationships, the one thing I have taken away is a sense of self. I’ve taken away a strong sense that one does not truly need someone else in their life to make them whole. We all have the yin/yang within ourselves. While it might be nice to have the male species to share perspective on the world, it is not necessary to have a full and happy life. One can have them as friends and this works equally as well. This leaves out much of the drama and confusion that comes with intimacy.

Men have been a sort of reverse mirror for myself. They have told me lots of things about who I am. Some of them not so great. And they haven’t been wrong. It’s made me grow. Certainly they have their own perspective about women (me) and have shared (albeit sometimes in a very loud voice), but it’s made me a better me. After I got over the weeping stage when they would come in and go away (barely before I knew all their kid’s names), I became more introspective about what they taught me. Not to mention, many of them fixed at least one thing in my house to boot!

So at mid life, 3 ex’s, more lovers than I like to think-I am now happily single. I’m not saying I would never fall in love again. I just don’t know if I can. I promised myself I would never be bitter or cynical, and I wouldn’t say I am. Maybe I would call it skeptical.

Ah men. A friend posted something on facebook recently. It was new statuses for relationships. Some were pretty funny. I had one to add: I prefer the company of my dogs.