lonesome

We've been here for 3 and half months. It feels like we've been here a year already. And yet as the season changes I remember that I've not ever experienced Autumn here - or Winter for that matter. And then, of course there's Spring. We've had visitors and projects, trips and outings. In other words, we've kept quite busy. But all along there's been this little sadness. When the visitors are really more the hubby's friends than mine. When my best friend comes out and I'm so happy but somewhere in the back there's that part of me that's always looking forward and I know, I know - she has to go home soon.
And so the sadness has been. A quiet lulling blanket, like Winter's snow. I hardly notice it at all anymore. Until it changes. Until I begin to notice the warm thawing of a new acquaintance, that might be a new friend. And although my loneliness seems to slowly be turning itself over - to a new sense of community, to new possibility and a wonderful new home, I know the coldness is still there. I've learned that it has always been there, waiting. Even in that old home. Moving has made it more poignant. Moving has taken my comfort and security that I used to keep it at bay. But in fact, there is always that awkwardness about myself. It's all my sense of loss and fear. It the quiet desperation of wanting so badly to be accepted and loved. And wondering if it will happen. It's my inner adolescent without the cool disguise.
And just like adolescents, what I've come to appreciate about this loneliness is that it is something that needs embracing. It's okay to feel lonesome. We all do.

"The trouble with loneliness is that there's no one to share it with."

I found that last quote somewhere I don't remember. I would love, love, love to know where it came from - a wise soul , no doubt. If you know, please share. That beautiful truism needs an author line.