Table for One

For the first time in my life, this Saturday, I will embark on a trip completely solo. Sure, I have done day trips somewhere by myself. I even went to Disneyland one time alone for my birthday. I ate an entire Monte Cristo, and this was when it was a portion size that was genuinely meant to be shared. (Ah, how I was a fat-fat.) What I have not done is journey for an extended period of time away from home without being accompanied by someone. There is always a presence there to help guide me and keep me grounded. Which is why I am mildly terrified.

I am certain I will be fine. Many of my friends have and do travel on their own. They’re the type of person with “gumption.” They’re assertive. They’re also imposing figures who most wouldn’t think twice about messing with. Myself on the other-hand, is a petite fragile little thing that scurries away at the slightest explosion of sound. And one of my genuine fears is being somewhere where I do not speak the local language. So, why I (as someone who understands Spanish but cannot speak it) thought going on a Mexican Riviera cruise was a good idea is beyond me.

I settled for this instead of doing a cross country road trip. That had been my initial intention after my husband had passed. It was a way to roll the windows down, let the fresh air in, and clear out all those negative thoughts. What kept me from going, besides my fear, was the fact that Covid “inflation” decided to drastically drain my inheritance. Therefore a cruise on a contained ship would be a better use of funds. Plus, I had a credit from a previously planned trip that had to be cancelled. Since I wasn’t getting that cash back, might as well use it to solve my grieving wanderlust.

I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m not particularly a social person when I’m alone. I use my friends and companions as crutches to aid in my extroverted introvert tendencies. Nor am I one to just strike up conversation with a stranger at a bar. Usually I end up halfway through thinking to myself, “They don’t give a shit about what we’re talking about.” Then I get all weird and shut down and end up ruining any kind of connection I may or may not have had because I got too inside my head.

I had mentioned before that I wanted to bring along this younger gentleman to aid me, but it would have made things weird all around. We’d almost certainly end up having sex, which is fine in my current relationship, but while I can detach myself from emotional entanglements this 22 year old boy would not. That for me seems entirely too cruel. Plus… his addition would detract from the whole point of this trip.

I am meant to travel alone. To experience an existence that isn’t hinged on the wants, whims, and wishes of another person. Which, isn’t a complaint, by the way. It’s an entirely foreign concept to me. Even when I primarily end up doing whatever I want anyway.

Missing Peace

My husband was entirely too considerate. He would see/sense the frustration on my face while I was helping him and would always apologize. Nothing specific, just for being a “burden.” Hearing it would break my heart, because it wasn’t the helping him with (literally) everything, it was the impending loss of him that frustrated me. I equated watching/caring for him like dragging a sharp blade slowly across my skin. The image doesn’t encapsulate everything I wanted. It just brings to mind the torture of it all, and the unknown survival.

What I knew then, that I am very, very well aware of now, is that I dreaded his absence. Just thinking of him not being around caused me so much panic that I would begin to hyperventilate.

The last two days I have missed him terribly. We are entering a very scary time. My rock and the one who knew what to say to make me feel better, is gone. I’m left to handle my emotions alone, however chaotic and confusing they will inevitably be. There are those around me who will and do help. They are just not to the level my husband achieved. Maybe it is because he had 21 years to perfect his process.

In the beginning, he didn’t know how to handle me. I am a live wire. It takes a certain level of finesse to comprehend why I do the things I do or why I feel a particular way. In those early days he sure as shit knew how to push my buttons. Ones he would deliberately press to listen to the cacophony of noises that would erupt from me. He watched my explosion with glee until it would inevitably take a dark turn and he’d have to deal with the repercussions of having done it. Only through his “practice” did he learn.

More than anything I want him here with me. I miss him terribly. I finally comprehend why people leave this mortal coil after losing the ones they love. They’re chasing the belief that they will see them again. That it will be instantaneous. That the person you crave more than air will be waiting on the other side, hand open to welcome you there. Unfortunately, it’s all fantasy. A human mind trying to rationalize a very spiritual event.

“A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the fucking lot…”

I’m in one of those moods where I would love to write something deeply emotional and profound. What that would look like I have no clue. Truly there is and are no original thoughts anymore. Especially coming from me. I only ever seem to regurgitate thoughts from the greats, just not as dazzling.

My self flagellation isn’t very attractive, but I’m also in a headspace where I want to push everyone away. It happens whenever I get a whiff of perceived slights. This has been occurring with more frequency lately. I imagine it is due to my depression over charlie’s passing. My threshold of resilience has significantly lowered. I just don’t have the energy to persevere. So, I fall to my tired tropes of isolation. Only in it do I find solace. Well, that or I realize how ridiculous I’m acting and I can emerge mildly humbled.

I’ve decided that I want to shrink my social circle. I just don’t have the capacity to maintain relationships. My heart aches every day in very subtle ways. Only today did it occur to me. Without my husband I just feel hollow. I feel lost. Apathetic. Indifferent.

I’ve just realized that I don’t really mean anything to anyone, other than what I can give them. Then I just feel like all I do is disappoint them with what I can.

An Experience Either Way…

Sometimes (like most people I’m sure) I hate myself. Honestly, it’s a revolving door of things I dislike but today it is “what past trauma has done to me.” When I was younger I used to be a very giving person. My parents taught me to give more than I received. What we did not anticipate is that people are selfish users. It’s funny now that we all learned a valuable lesson at different stages of our lives. Yet we responded the same way. We over-corrected and thus became suspicious of everyone.

My solo cruise is coming up at the end of this month and I grow ever more uneasy. It’s terrifying just thinking of traveling “internationally” alone. So many scenarios run through my head… Primarily around getting kidnapped. (Not like I’m that easy to snatch…) Other ones include getting lost or left behind by the cruise line. From these fears I’m starting to panic and think of people I could take with me as a safety net. I’m already paying for the second person anyway… I might as well. What stops me is that the WHOLE POINT is to do something by myself. Which I’ve never done before.

I can’t take my BF because he has to work and is saving his vacation time for our cruise in July. I don’t want to take my brother because I am so weirdly co-dependent that it would make things worse. Plus, sometimes I get the feeling that my BF thinks that I’m going to run off with him and leave him behind. (That’s his own childhood trauma talking though.) So, neither is a viable option.

One of the leading contenders (in my head) is this young guy I have coined as “black jack,” because he’s 21 years old. (I’m super clever, right?) His real name is Ryan but I have 2 others in my circle and so saving “seconds” from having to explain which one I’m referring to, I gave him a cutesy little name.

I have mentioned it to him in passing but… I started to get paranoid that this youngun was just befriending me to use me for this trip. Granted… I brought it up to him… and he hasn’t given me any cause to think that at all. It’s just my own intense past trauma.

In addition, I didn’t want my BF to think that I was replacing him or using this trip as a way of getting closer to Blackjack. That’s not even in the orbit of the sphere of possibility. I’m not like that. I can control my feelings from getting attached or fall for someone. What I don’t have the power to do is keep someone else from feeling a certain way. If I took him, would he “fall for me?” I don’t want to hurt someone and he’s so young that I absolutely would. That is, if they’re real emotions and not tied to what I can offer him: “stability.”

Past experience has made me so jaded. I’m leery of people who are just being my friend to get something from me. My husband and I were suckers… We had a roommate use us to pay for his fucking rent and cell phone. We did it because we thought he was our friend but he peaced the fuck out and didn’t bother to tell us he was done until we had wasted buckets of money.

This fear and my own fear of being alone have made me so paranoid and uneasy. This whole trip is meant to be fun, yet here I sit dreading the entire experience. (Watch… I’ll just sit in my room the whole time.)