scary

Now that the Past Participant has dumped me, via text…….so teenage and so NOT Adult….. I have ventured into the terrifying world of online dating. Having so suddenly felt alive and attractive, albeit for 3 weeks (ish), and having not even considered I might be a woman alive, beyond the expected carer thing, my brain and body came alight. It was/is, deeply weird. I mean, at 71, that’s IT, Isn’t it? Obviously not, however, this could have been a one-off, the only one-off. But I no longer believe that, not least because it was so very random, so unexpected, and, in my thinking, ONE is not enough. It might take thought and (scary) action to bring back that opportunity. Obviously she, ()pportunity) was knocking.

I joined one, then panicked and unsubscribed. I joined another, then panicked and unsubscribed. The men who ‘liked’ me and wanted to talk seemed a bit keen, their bios presenting what I have heard before, albeit 50 years ago. I I hear ‘feminist, no desire to change you, open-hearted, all that stuff. I heard that, out loud, from the Past Participant. My unbelief is on High Alert. But, there has been another few weeks of lonely, bored, wanting to share, missing companionship and all the other ships. So, even though those men who like me appear to live in the Dominican Republic, or Brazil, or Edinburgh or Glasgow or Inverness or any other damn place that isn’t anywhere easy, I did email respond to one of those men whose bio doesn’t request (‘any woman over 30’) even though he is over twice that age. Jeez…..I’m not sure this online thing is for me. However, I am brave, gallus, and game on, lonely too, scared too. That ‘Scared bollix’ mustn’t stop anyone. In order (and here I’m doing the sensible thing) to move on, if that’s what I wants, (the scandal plural intended) the scared bollix needs a knee in the groin. A Gallus exposure. Forget all the rules here.

Moving on……..

I just have to write about it because it is fire in my heart and, as we all know, fire dies to embers in the grate, and in our minds it takes a smokey back seat if it is not captured immediately. So I am being ”immediately’. I am beginning to realise, is the only way to really live. Parked stuff melts into grey; other peoples demands rise like new flames into that grey and it will dissolute, diminish, and ghost and unfortunately that ghost takes a stand in the doorway of revelation, blocking it.

My little sister arrived today with her partner. It has been easy 2 years since I saw her, hugged her, looked into her eyes. They are bright, for the record, she who has braved massive stuff over the years. She is as wild as I remember, tousled haired, dancer body, feisty, bright, and so so very giving. A complete inspiration around small children because she can catch them and entrance and connect from nowhere and anywhere and they love her and remember her for life. When I watched her come in to see two of her nieces today, one of whom, aged 5 was unsure she would remember her aunt, well, it was a concerto of perfect music. There is something about the flow between ages and distance and she, my sister, has it in the bag. Not that she contrives it. No manipulation, just a gift.

And. It is her birthday. Managing to catch an earlier ferry, she and her man arrived early. Now, we had a plan. A seafood smash and grab thing around 5, pre this knowledge. Quick as squirrels grabbing nuts as they smell a frost, we set to, as they say here. Food was hurried up, tables laid, wine chilled, balloons ballooned and I watched her arrive. She is a tad glorious to watch arriving. We feasted on fresh caught seafood. We laughed and joked and shared, sorted little ones on the wet slide and in the paddling pool. It was a glorious celebration of my sister and also of ourselves. We needed this. As I dippled and scanted my way back down the track I thought this.

In the nothing of the last scary months, this was a very big something. And I am thankful, so very very thankful.