I do not like sleeping alone, nor do I do enjoy having to be a strong and independent woman all the time; yet I am. What I distaste most is not having another to share our lives together. Each man I have let into my life has something very special about them and I doubt many can see what I see.
I miss the conversations of this and that; debates over here nor there with the thinker man. I miss the strength of the rebel man, although he never seemed to know it was there. I miss the innocence and sweetness of the artist man. Of course there had been others, but not too many and yet not too few.
Every one of them has thought me something about myself, they hold a special place in my heart always and yet I am still here, alone. Either way, I am waiting for another special man to cross my path into my life or waiting for the truly special man that will stay in my life.
Just don’t think I’m sitting here in a pretty little dress shading tears of despair over my current relationship status. I am fine with alone, I just do not enjoy the taste of it.
(I published this on a previous blog and thought it was relevant even to this day.)