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I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have actually had a partner in my life.
Not a long term girlfriend, or lover, or friends with benefits. A partner. Someone to whom I had committed my life to loving, knowing that I would be loved in return.
I guess that that outcome was never in the cards. Shame. Wonder what kind of partner I could have been to that person.
On this day, back in 2004, an eventful year by all accounts, I opened up my LJ blog. Round about this time back in 2008, I had the most disastrous date imaginable, with my last ex and her frankly loathesome rellies back in London.
I have not had anyone in my life since.
I write this blog on the sixth anniversary of its establishment, feeling a little alone. Some friends of mine are changing the circumstances of their lives: one has already left her workplace, and the other might be leaving soon, if her job interview on Friday works out (I hope it does, because it would mean that she has the opportunity to follow her dreams; no matter how much I'd miss her, she has vowed not to be slinging coffee in a diner for the rest of her days).
I'm tired, people. Dog tired of walking alone, of having nobody else to turn to at night and say "Guess what I did today?" or to ask "What are we doing tomorrow?"
Anyway, there you go. Happy Anniversary, Plainclothes Clown.
And now to bed.
Not a long term girlfriend, or lover, or friends with benefits. A partner. Someone to whom I had committed my life to loving, knowing that I would be loved in return.
I guess that that outcome was never in the cards. Shame. Wonder what kind of partner I could have been to that person.
On this day, back in 2004, an eventful year by all accounts, I opened up my LJ blog. Round about this time back in 2008, I had the most disastrous date imaginable, with my last ex and her frankly loathesome rellies back in London.
I have not had anyone in my life since.
I write this blog on the sixth anniversary of its establishment, feeling a little alone. Some friends of mine are changing the circumstances of their lives: one has already left her workplace, and the other might be leaving soon, if her job interview on Friday works out (I hope it does, because it would mean that she has the opportunity to follow her dreams; no matter how much I'd miss her, she has vowed not to be slinging coffee in a diner for the rest of her days).
I'm tired, people. Dog tired of walking alone, of having nobody else to turn to at night and say "Guess what I did today?" or to ask "What are we doing tomorrow?"
Anyway, there you go. Happy Anniversary, Plainclothes Clown.
And now to bed.
