Busty Rocker's blog: "My Musings"

I often get asked about my relationship status. For some reason, people seem to have a hard time accepting that I'm single. Generally, it doesn't bother me. After I say "yes, I really am single," I answer their next question: no, it's not by choice. I just don't get many options to date. Until recently, I was working three jobs so my social life was definitely put on the back burner. I also don't have a large circle of friends here in Montana, so I feel that makes it harder to meet guys especially when my two closest friends happen to be a couple. I've just accepted that.

Lately, though, this whole single business has been nagging at the corner of my mind. Sometimes, I don't choose to be single and others I very much make that choice whether I like to admit it or not.

I've been single a long, long time. My last serious relationship ended when I was 18. I dated around a a small bit after that, but I've pretty much been on my own for a solid 5 years. As that number gets bigger, it does start to weight on my mind more. I've been in two of my friend's weddings already and I'll have at least one more in the next year, with another probably following closely after that. As I watch many of my friends start building families, it doest make me a little sad. I am no where near that and won't be for a long time. I live alone and some nights it's tough. I don't have anyone to depend on. If my car breaks down, I call a tow truck, a mechanic and probably a cab to get me home. If something in my apartment breaks, I fix it or I call a maintenance guy to fix it. When I come home from work, I make dinner for myself, sit on the couch by myself and go to bed by myself. Doing that day after day can really wear on a person. Sometimes, I just crave the touch of another person so badly it hurts.

However, on the other days I am extremely proud of all I've accomplished by myself. I've moved away from everyone I'd ever known, I've received two degrees and I've taught college writing for 2 and 1/2 years. I do everything on my own, I tell it like it is, and I could never be described as "dependent." Sometimes, the sense of pride I get from all of that though, becomes a downfall. I'm a little concerned I've gotten too used to being on my own, to the point that when anyone shows interest in me I almost immediately try to push them away. First, I do it with sarcasm. Then, I'll bring up my weight or the fact that I've been pretty badly cheated on. If that doesn't work, I'll just slowly remove myself from conversation until they become uninterested. I just, can't let anyone in. And, I don't know how to stop doing that.

So, I don't really know. I don't know why I wrote this out for the fu-world to see. Maybe it's to help others understand my relationship status a little better. It's never cut and dry for anyone though, is it? I do think I'll be alone for a very long time and I do think I'm losing faith in the concept of loving someone else, but who knows.

Anyway, I feel better after writing this all out. And I'm not really looking for comments so if you can restrain yourself from leaving them (or if you've at least read this far), you don't have to say anything about what I've written. I'd prefer that you didn't. Just appreciate me using the writing process to purge negativity. Now, it's time for apple cider:)

I wrote this story two months ago for a creative writing class, and it got rave reviews from my classmates. I hope you enjoy it.

              It was raining, but that didn’t surprise me. It rained every time we made love, as if some cosmic force declared the heavens should open and let forth the enraptured outpouring they felt for our coupling. At least, that’s the way I chose to look at it. Eric, on the other hand, well, I think he just saw me as a good lay. He had called earlier in the afternoon, and the moment my cell phone was illuminated with his name, I knew I shouldn’t answer his call. I knew what he wanted. I also knew what he didn’t want. But, out of some possession beyond my own free will, I pressed the “talk” button and allowed his deep voice to melt me like chocolate left out too long in the sun.

            Within minutes, the clouds had brought him to my door and now they kept us sheltered inside the afterglow of my bedroom. He rolled flat on his back, his barrel chest rising and falling as his breathing returned to normal. I pulled the comforter up to my ears and curled into his side, doing my best to maintain an air of distance while every nerve ending in my body sizzled with the longing for his muscular arms around me. He tilted his chin down to look at me and I watched that cocky, wide lipped grin engulf his face.

            “Yes Eric, you did a good job.” I rolled my eyes and placed my hand, palm opened, on his chest. Moments before we had been as physically close as two people could possibly be. How far could I go now before he pushed me away?

            “Oh you made that clearly evident earlier, babe.” He chuckled and the bed rippled softly, an island of navy in a sea of stock white. His calloused hand stroked my tangled hair, twining his fingers into it with no urgency. Not like the urgency that had been there before. I rolled onto my stomach, resting my weight on my elbows so I could look out the window.

            “Let’s grab a bite to eat. I’m starving after that work out.” The rain swelled and beat harder against the glass. The single tree outside my single bedroom window shook its arms at me, undulating in the unsteady wind. A warning.

            “Babe, look at the rain. Let’s order pizza.” Defeat.

            The windshield wipers were on high. Dark sheets of night rain beat the sides of his van. I had never noticed before that when we were parked, the rhythm of the wipers rocked the van gently. I looked at my hands.

“So when do you leave?” My voice was small, desperate. It sounded nothing like the strong woman’s voice I had heard in my head. Where had she gone?

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month. It’s really too hard to say right now. They’ll call me when they need me.” Eric hunched forward and fiddled with the dial on the XM radio, switching from an active rock station to an alternative rock station. I couldn’t hear a difference.

“Good for you. This will be a good thing for you.” I felt his eyes on me as I counted the creases in each of my knuckles. I really needed to stop chewing my cuticles. I really needed to stop loving him.

“Yeah. It’s been a great ride though hasn’t it?” His loud laugh broke through the organic percussion of the rain. It broke through my silence. It broke through my heart. I had so much to say to him. He needed to know that this wasn’t just about fucking for me. He needed to understand that I would do anything to get him to stay with me. I set my hand on his thigh, forming my palm to the natural curve of his leg. Surely he could feel the electric current pulsing down my arm, into my hand, spreading into each of my finger tips. A maelstrom of excitement and need swirled in my stomach. It rose into my chest, past my lungs, into my throat, to the base of my tongue. I couldn’t stop it. I was going to tell him.

“Heh, yeah. Well, I’d better head on in. I’ve got some serious homework to do before tomorrow. Thanks for the drive and the beer.” I looked at him. It was a mistake. He leaned toward me and his warm breath immediately sedated me. The current cooled. The maelstrom calmed. Eric finished the kissed and I couldn’t breathe. Stunned, I fumbled with the door handle, my entire body deflated. I pushed open the creaky door and stepped into the downpour. I turned to wave goodbye. The van was already down the block.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs and felt the rain on my skin. My hair and clothes were pasted to me and my ventilated tennis shoes filled with cool water. My make up ran down my face in flesh-colored streams, mixing with my silent tears. I turned my face to the sky and kept my eyes wide, letting the droplets land where they chose. They ran down my body and onto the side walk, collecting with others as they created quiet brooks on either side of the street. They left me. So did Eric.

Somewhere, a great oven door had been opened and heat now rolled off the mountains in waves around me, creating blurred mirages at the edges of my vision. The breeze was unforgiving, simply pushing the heat into my nose and mouth instead of cooling me as a summer breeze should. I sat on the dry grass, my knees pulled up to my chin, my arms wrapped around my calves. I let the sun beat down on my neck, feeling the warmth seep into my pours and down my spine. It felt good. I smiled to myself. My back pocket started vibrating and I instinctively reached for my phone. Amanda was supposed to be picking me up, but I was certain she was running late as usual. I shielded the phone with my tanned hand. Eric.

I looked up at the bright blue sky. There was going to be no rain today.