Sunday, 10 May 2009
Playtime
As the afternoon advances, the laughter from the garden next door grows louder. My neighbour's grandchildren and their parents are visiting; the voices of generations criss-crossing the light breeze. I strain to hear the radio and eventually rise to close the window. More than the interruption, the stark realisation of the kind of life I have built for myself disturbs me. It is hard not to cry.
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4 comments:
What kind of life? I love your intermittent posts and always perk up when I see you have written something. Is it enough that a stranger looks forward to your presence, appreciates you?
A life alone, without family, a partner or children.
But it is very flattering that you enjoy my words, and I thank you for it.
Purest Green? A Blackadder fan? I hope so.
Puss
Puss, it is hard; I know what you mean-it is like being on the outside looking in.
One point of solace for me, is that I cannot stand 99% of these married couples. When I look at them, I ask myself would I want to marry their husband? NO WAY.
The thought of having a husband like theirs makes being single so much the better! Its much like a catch 22.
It is tiring sometimes wondering when "Mr. Right" will emerge. It is also tiring being chased by men who I have absolutely no interest. Maybe you are as picky as I? It is not a bad thing.
Chin Up!
And if you feel so sad about it, then see what you can change to meet new people-you may be surprised!
I'm at the point myself where I'm starting to wonder if the noise of children playing will ever be a part of my life, and wondering as well if that's even something I want.
No matter what you or I choose, there will always be wistful moments concerning the road not taken...
Now, where's Baldric?
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