The Irony


It’s a lonely job.

But somebody’s got to do it.

I find it funny, actually.

Sitting by myself on a Sunday afternoon with a movie about dysfunction in a relationship, Blue Valentine with Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, and then writing my mid-term paper on how I would, as the couple’s therapist, help them in the first session.

Yeah.

Like that.

The lonely grad school girl figures out how to make a marriage stick together.

The irony is not lost on me.

No.

Not at all.

As I sit at my lonely girl desk, in my little studio by the sea, my light up globe, a gift from a former love, a Mason jar full of flowers I bought for myself, in my single girl get up–yoga pants and sweatshirt, my hair up in a messy bun, no make up on.

How the fuck am I suppose to help somebody stay in a relationship?

I haven’t one.

Except.

Yes.

I do.

I have an amazing relationship with myself and I feel that most relationships fail or struggle because one person is looking for the other person to be there all, the everything, the one who fixes it, the one who makes it better.

Nobody can do that, fyi, in case you were wondering.

No one can fix another, or complete another.

We complete ourselves.

I can tell myself that I need someone.

But the truth is, I just need me.

I have faith in myself.

So.

By doing the paper and sitting here alone, ultimately, by doing this self-care, I will be in relationship to others because I can be a friend to myself, a lover to myself, a provider to myself.

I can get up in the morning and go to yoga.

Check.

Did that.

I even forgot to get pissed off at the yoga instructor, although my brain did give it the old college try, by the end of ten minutes I was so in my breath and body I forgot to be mad.

Gentle love.

I made myself a wonderful hot breakfast afterward and decided to stay in my yoga clothes.

One.

They are hella comfortable.

Two.

I had designs on a second yoga class today.

There is a restorative yoga class on Sunday evenings at the studio.

It was going to be my “reward” if I got done with my paper.

I did not get done with my paper on time.

But.

Yes!

I did finish my paper.

I turned in my 2,169 word, eight page paper, “We Always Hurt The One We Love,” to my Couples Therapy teacher about an hour ago.

Then I pulled out the roasted chicken that was cooking in the oven while I was writing and had myself a lovely, yes, hahaha, candle lit dinner, and listened to a little Ray La Montagne while I did so.

You are the best thing that ever happened to me.

Baby.

It’s been a long day.

I get to be that person to myself, I get to be the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I get to be the one for me.

I know myself so much better.

Baby, you’ve come a long way.

You damn straight better believe it.

Baby, this love will never fade away.

That too.

Yes.

I have known romantic love before and I will know romantic love again, but I wouldn’t if I wasn’t taking the best care of myself that I can.

It’s been a long journey and sometimes I can forget that I am the best thing, the best girl, the bright heart, that I can cultivate inside me the best relationship ever.

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Thanks, Mister Oscar Wilde.

How true.

I can’t expect someone to do that kind of work.

And oh.

I will do the work, I am worth it.

And in that worthiness, I suspect, I will be found, when time, God’s time, not mine, is right.

No worries until that point.

And no, not concerned about the irony of the single lady writing a comprehensive paper on couples therapy.

I know how it feels to be all alone.

I know how it feels to be all alone in a relationship with another person.

Today.

I am not lonely.

I may be alone, but I am not lonely.

I am loved.

I am known.

I know myself.

I am happy.

Not always, but more often than not.

I cook for myself, clean for myself, make the bed for myself, I wear pretty clothes for myself and do my hair.

Usually.

Ok.

Today I also just let me be in my yoga togs all day.

I knew I wasn’t going to make it to the second class when I hit page five of the paper, but I also knew I was going to get the mid-term done and have a god damn nice home cooked meal when it was finished.

And I did.

There’s something outrageous about how long it has taken me to get here.

Then again.

Thank fucking God I did get here.

Considering how stacked the deck was against me, well, I beat the house odds, came out the other side, and walked out into sunshine.

Sometimes things are still too bright for me to see, but as I get used to being in the sunlight of the spirit I get to see more and more and my life seems to open further and wider.

An ever-widening circle of love and joy.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.

Look at all the wonderful things I get to see when I sit by myself and do the work.

So that one day.

I won’t be sitting by myself with another.

Lonelier than when I was alone.

Love.

Love.

Always.

This.

Love.

 

 

 

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