I went to see an apartment yesterday. It was in an area of Albany where 3 blocks farther downtown is a place where I would never live, 3 blocks up is beautiful. The apartment itself is charming. An old fashioned house, this is a flat on the second floor, all of it.The newly redone hardwood floors gleamed when we saw it, and the kitchen was all new cabinets and lots of them. The bedrooms were small, the closets almost non-existent. That is a problem for a woman with as many clothes as I have, though I could get around it. So I gave the man my references and waited to hear back. Tonight he called. He said that I must be the most loved woman in Albany. That my references held me in such high regard. It made me feel good, though I did not point out the obvious that I had no intention of giving him the numbers of people who disliked me.
It made me feel good, but it made me quite sad as well. I guess that while I appreciate the good will from those who know me, and I am grateful for the friendship of those that I have, I long for something that they cannot give me. I miss intimacy and the warmth and rush of feelings and the love that comes with it, if you are lucky.
There are times, of course, that I do not miss it. Times that I feel that such a thing does not really exist, or if so just not for me. But that inevitably leaves me feeling sadder. Sometimes I feel that this need is a weakness that I need to get over to get the right control of my life. And sometimes I think that my power to believe is my strength that will see me through the tough times, as it has already.
What do you think? What kind of lives are we destined to have? How do so many of us live through this short period of time not attaining what they want, no, but far worse, not trying to get it.