Maybe Tonight

The sound of my bedside fan seems to mark the seconds that go by, as I lie in bed staring at the silhouettes of trees standing out against a red-tinged night sky. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes bleed into hours, and I’m no closer to sleep than when I got into bed. The only noise I can hear is the fan blades whirring, stirring the air and insulating me from the sounds of the night. It seems to be a metaphor for me, isolated from the voices of the rest of the world.

You don’t really grasp how valuable human contact and closeness is until you no longer have it. I spend most nights like this, with my soul longing for anyone to want to connect, but getting nothing but white noise whenever I try to reach out. I might get two word responses, or a polite haha, maybe even an emoji … All dismissals, done out of a sense of obligation or just habit.

I have a couple really good friends. Other than them, no one really talks to me. I don’t mean conversation for the sake of it or discussing the weather … I mean really talking, about feelings and dreams and fears and heartbreaks and joy. These are the things that matter, that connect us as humans to each other. But most nights, I lie here and wait for anyone to actually wish for that kind of connection with me. I wonder why people have forgotten me … How can they not see me anymore?

I’ve tried to spark a discussion. Most nights I end up making a fool of myself, sending random memes and one line messages, because I can’t find the words to say “Please want my company. Can’t we connect?”

With a couple of exceptions, and I cherish them dearly, people have all faded into the background of my world. Now I’m alone, shouldering an almost impossible task as a single mom, and at the end of my long days when I fall into bed exhausted, I set my alarm to do it all over again tomorrow … I just wish I wasn’t one of the forgotten.

The fan keeps turning, turning, kind of like the years of my life going by. I’m starting to wonder if it will always be this way, and why. I’ve always tried to do good for others, but at the end of the day … Maybe tonight, someone will want to talk.

Maybe tonight.

Days That Slip Away …

Do you ever have days when pulling the covers off seems too hard?

I do.

I find myself firmly inside one of those today. I’m pretty sure that I had planned to leave the house by now, but here we are at almost noon, and I’m still finding reasons to linger in my comfies, in my bedroom, planning my day – as it’s passing me by.

“Mama, when are we going to the beach?” As I mentally calculate how many hours of Vitamin D we have left from the sun, I’m already writing this day off before we’ve had lunch. The guilt of not making sure they got the proper amount of sunlight during the correct hours … oy. I’m already making excuses for staying home, staying in, not trying.

I sometimes wonder how to keep all these balls in the air without faltering: 4 kids, 2 jobs, a pregnant cat (she came that way, that’s a whole other blog), and those pesky bill things. Me time? Ha! When the kids go their dad’s I do everything I can to avoid spending time with myself … alone. Netflix binges, grocery shopping, ANYTHING but facing time with me.

And here I am, the kids are with me, and I’m waffling on leaving because I’ve missed optimum vitamin D time?

Heavy blankets or not, I’m getting these comfies off and getting OUT! Maybe we’ll go the lake instead of the ocean – it’s closer. Less time in the car means more time in the sun, right?

Maybe it’s time I take a closer look and realize that 4 beautiful human beings think I’m pretty ok to hang out with … mayhaps I should consider the possibility that my company isn’t so bad.

But I’ll think about that tomorrow.