Alone

I’ve talked at length here before about love and work (e.g., Freud) and life’s fulfillments. I’ve described my life complete with love (for my children and grandchildren) and work (writing, presentations). What I haven’t addressed is being alone.

Yes, I have lots of male friends who happily enjoy my company. I cherish their commitment. And, yes, I have plenty of readers who give me feedback. And, yes, yet again, I’m old enough that sex is not a driving force anymore.

All that said, I’m lonely. For female companionship. All my life, I’ve had a female partner, until my most recent, Su, died a couple of years ago. In my grieving, I haven’t been able to motivate myself to seek a new partnership. In short, I crave a female partner without being willing to go seek one.

Now I have learned that an earlier partner, Ann, has also died. I genuinely loved her and grieved at our separation. One more loss to mourn.

I’m weary of sleeping alone. I want to find a female body lying next to me in bed, not for sex, but for closeness. I want to know that I matter to someone of the opposite sex, that she would care if something happened to me. I want a woman to be there for me.

Despite all that, I can’t bring myself to date. I tried it for a while but was severely disappointed in the dull women who were willing to spend time with me. I admit it: my standards are unrealistic. I want a woman with achievements that reflect mine. Not likely, especially given my books, my PhD, and my combat experience.

So it looks like I’m condemned to loneliness in old age. That makes me far from unique. Maybe what I need to do is train myself to accept the inevitable.