After Bottle #1

Here I am.  Saturday night. 

Made dinner for myself, put Grace & Frankie on and started a bottle of wine.

What I have realized after this bottle of wine is how sad and lonely I am.  I am not liking empty nesting.  I’m not liking cooking for one – mainly because I hate leftovers, but because you can’t buy food in America for one very easily. 

I also realized that most of the time talking isn’t going to fix anything.  I want to talk and I want to spill my guts. The issue is there isn’t anyone here to listen.  There isn’t anyone here to hold me when I cry.  Talking about it just makes it worse. 

Ever since I got home this week it has hit me that being here is lonely. I realized how sucky it is when it hit me I haven’t seen my actual nephew since my birthday in May, my mom doesn’t ever call and when she does she doesn’t understand what I am saying.  My dad only calls when I call first or if it is a holiday.  When I invite my brothers family he always says it’s too far to drive in one day. 

Why wouldn’t I be sad and lonely?  It’s not like my family puts me first.  I’m 2+ hours away and that’s apparently like an eternity to them. 

Then when your one friend says that your ideas are silly when you try to make plans – you start to feel worse and worse. I was looking forward to getting out a bit tonight – even if it was just to sit in a car and watch a movie.  It didn’t need to be complicated.  Just spend time with me.  

When another friend just stops talking to you for no real reason it stings a little more.

When you get two messages from two people, like a blast from the past and that twinge of excitement quickly fades as you realize what their initial intent was for contacting you. 

After a while staying home alone becomes the norm. Being content alone is sufficient. Binge watching Netflix and chilling alone, that’s okay. 

I am one bottle of wine in and I am perplexed. 

The tears keep flowing.  I wonder, what is so wrong with me?  I would do anything for anyone and have done things for others, even when it was hard. Yet day in and day out I am left to feel like an outcast.  Is it my looks?  My intelligence? Am I not funny enough?  Can I not carry on a conversation?  What is it?

All of this reminds me why I don’t like being around people.

As much as people think I am a social butterfly, I am really not.  I am truly your extroverted introvert. 
So – I’m fine. I’m always fine.

2 thoughts on “After Bottle #1

  1. Stanley says:

    I keep myself incredibly busy. This works both ways since I am male. Providing for others has been the reason for getting up and going to work… for years. Then the kids grow up, and then the grandkids. Your wife leaves for an OLDER man. Took my pet companion to get spayed and the vet botched it. She was in a lot of agony and pain, and died the next day. I will always feel guilty about that. Grandpa just to old for the kids. So yeah this goes for men and women. Yeah we have all this time now, and finances to do most anything but it still sux being alone.

    Like

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