One is the loneliest number

If you've been reading this blog, you may have realized that my formative teenage years were fashioned in the volatile 1960s. Be that as it may, even I am having trouble believing that my life is turning into a song lyric by Three Dog Night! (Insert primal scream here.) But unfortunately, it's so true. Life in my own home gnaws at the emptyness contained within their walls. I have plenty of friends, and they're very helpful most of the time. But I can't expect them to babysit me each day as I continue to struggle with the loss of companionship brought on by Dennis's death. It's most persistent in the morning when I'm getting ready to leave for work, and each evening when I return. Nothing but an empty shell in which I reside. And as I've stated before, Friday nights are the worst, because he died on a Friday night. But it's also an everyday thing. I've never really felt lonely before, even when I was living by myself prior to meeting Dennis. But now that more than 30 years have transpired, and those 30 plus years contained ready-made companionship in the form of Dennis, I just can't shake the lonely factor.

Neither of us were ever party animals, going out each and every night, circulating among our friends. We were always each other's company. And I don't feel that going out all the time is the answer. I'm certainly not ready for another relationship; I don't particularly like the idea of a roommate either. And don't even consider telling me I should get a pet. I have no use whatsoever for cats or dogs; the neighborhood cats have already turned my yard into their personal bathroom. I'm constantly finding dirt piles in the yard, and if I dig around in them, I'm sure you can guess what I find. And it's not hidden treasures.

I know that some of my introspectiveness has to do with a couple of the emotional pits that are coming up in my life. August 25th will be the two-year anniversary of when we received his ALS diagnosis. And a week later, it will be what would have been our 31st anniversary on September 1st. Both those dates have been weighing heavily on my mind lately. The anniversary date in particular will be a very difficult day for me. I can easily cry with a snap of my fingers when thinking about it (like right now while I'm trying to type). I've already gotten the okay to take the day off from work and I'm going to try and make the best of it by being with friends—Tom, Donna & Nancy, their son Joshua and I will be gathering for dinner that night at our favorite restaurant, but it's still going to be traumatic for me. But they're there for me and I truly appreciate them for all the support they keep contributing.

And don't worry too much about this screed I'm currently having. This blog is still my outlet for venting and I always feel better once I've gotten these feelings down "on paper" so to speak. Onward, even if it's with me as my only companion.