Alone

Alone in my apartment on the one day a year dedicated solely to lovers is not the tragedy I might have thought it was in my youth.  Like all words, “lovers” has so many levels.  Spanning everything from the surface to the deepest most innermost part of being.

The seed was planted when I was born and imprinted on my parents.  Love was needy and intense and extraordinarily self centered. 

Growing outwards, love reached for those who were enough like me to give me those things I wanted and needed the most.  It was a mutual giving in order to receive.

As a parent, love exploded into giving!  Love like this is as close to god-like as a human being ever comes.

As my children grew and my world expanded, the knowledge of that love began to creep out and fill in all the nooks and crannies around me.  Until now I find myself a lover…connected so ineffably that I am never alone.