Five Minute Friday: Lonely

It's Friday.  Where hundreds of writers come together every week over at the lovely Lisa-Jo Baker's blog to spend five minutes writing about one thing.  One word.  No hyper-editing.  No getting in your own way.  Just writing, flat out.  The most important rule: encourage the writer who linked up before you.  Won't you join us?

Today's prompt: Lonely


GO:


I know that girl.  The lonely girl.  I have been her.  For a long time, I walked in those worn out, dingy slippers with the impressions of the feet molded into the soles, up and down the hallway for what seemed an eternity.  A vapor slipping in and out of hours which became days, not even knowing what day of the week it was and too tired to care.  They say that babies grow up fast, that the days pass by in the blink of an eye.   But in those first few months of motherhood, the minutes seemed to tick by with an unfathomable slowness.

How many minutes until the next nap, how many minutes until the next feeding, how many hours until he gets home.  How many until he leaves again.

It wasn't that I expected it to be easy.  But nothing prepared me for how invisible I would feel.  As though everyone looked at my baby but seeming saw straight through me.  How a new town could go from being incredibly exciting to incredibly bleak in the course of a week. 

One day, I simply decided to show up.  First I opened a book, then I found solace in a song.  I realized something.  I had a choice.  To dare myself to reach out to everyone around me.  To be visible means to offer yourself to another person, in friendship, in caring, in sharing the ups and downs of each day, on day at a time.  There will be those moments of solitude.  Sometimes the loneliness may last for a season.  But the if I open my eyes and look around me, the relationships I form can last forever.


STOP.