Even Romance Writers Get the Blues

I’m a positive person by nature. Somehow I managed not to make the cheerleading squad, but I’m not good at yelling, and they seemed to do a lot of that. Also, I wasn’t perky. I failed perky big time, but ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you how supportive I am. I’m supportive like an expensive sports bra. 🙂

No one said life would be easy. I know that. I thank God every night for my blessings because I do know I’m blessed with abundance beyond measure, but every night and every chance I get, I make the effort to recognize how blessed I am.

I can breathe. Let’s start with that. I have asthma so I know what it’s like to NOT breathe. Since I’ve lost weight and taken up running, I’ve even cut back on my asthma meds. (It doesn’t hurt that my insurance company is staffed by asshats.)

I have yarn all over the house. Okay, so even I’m starting to look around thinking, “Maybe this is a little too much.” But it makes me happy and I use it to make things that make other people happy.

There’s food in the refrigerator. There’s no question in my mind, if we were snowed in for a week and the power stayed on, we’d stay fed.

I have a job. It’s not a career but it keeps said food on the table, the roof over our heads, and my car in motion. It’s also allowed me the time to be home with the boys for longer than people who work ’til 5 or later, and believe me, that’s made a HUGE difference to me.

The boys are great people. Last week I heard it from two different people who don’t know each other and couldn’t know that it would leave me grinning from ear to ear for the rest of the day. It’s nice to hear when you’re really not sure if you did any of this parenting stuff right.

I’m losing weight, I look good, I feel great (not counting my knee), and I can run. There are some days when running is the only thing that saves my sanity. Like today, for instance.

So I know damn well I have no right to feel blue, and yet here it is. I’m keeping up a good front when I’m around people, but underneath it all, I can’t quite shake this feeling that I need a good cry.

I don’t want to. I gave in and cried not too long ago—in the shower, where no one could see me and when I got out, the redness on my face was easily explained—and it didn’t help because when I got out of the shower, I couldn’t stop crying. A crying jag is not the kind of genie that goes easily back in the bottle.

I know what it’s about, too. I’m lonely. The boys are here, but they don’t need my problems. They have no idea and I’m keeping it that way.

I’m lonely as hell, and no one knows. Well, now you do. Sorry, but I also know that if I’m having this problem, I’m probably not alone in it, and that’s the ONLY reason I’m sharing this. Not to go by the “misery loves company” cliche, but as often as I tell myself this isn’t forever and somewhere out there is the one I was meant to meet but didn’t; these days of loneliness are numbered and dwindling; I just need to hang on ’til they’re over and what follows will be so much love and peace and security that the rest of it will all be worth it.

But what do I do NOW?

I was hoping that getting it out of my system would, really, get it out of my system. How’m I doin’? 😉

Honestly, I’d go pour some wine but I have a weigh-in tomorrow so I can’t. Stupid dammit. 😉

I just want to be happy, and I know I should be happy. I have all the ingredients to a happy life that anyone else would love to lead. So why am I not happy?

No, that’s not true. I am happy. I know it. I’m blessed. I’m just…missing something.

Someone.

Whoever you are, get here soon. Please.