Alone

This post is in response to the Blog Challenge by Tilda Swift at her blog, Swift Expression. It is my entry for number 6.If any of my readers derives inspiration from this post and would like to do something similar on their own blog, please provide full credit to the owner of the original Blog Challenge (as stated above) to abide by copyright laws.

The Challenge
6. For reasons beyond your control, you find yourself completely alone for the rest of your life. How will you cope? How will you survive? Or will you find a way to thrive?

Well, I would like to think that I’m strong. I would like to think I would be independent and self-sufficient.  I would like to think if I am alone I  would find a way to thrive.

If I had no attachments, no relationship, no friends? I would like to imagine I would be a free spirit hippy. I think being alone means not having any ties… not having family and friends. Maybe, just maybe, if being alone is categorized as so it doesn’t mean I have to live a closed off life in a  cabin without a soul in sight. Because we can have encounters with others, be in a horde of people, yet still be alone.  I can maybe picture a life without attachments and friends if I’m out in the world doing good, living free and unattached. Maybe  imagine myself in the peace corps. Going on missions to third world countries. Living the life of a nomad. A backpack and a passport moving form city to city on whims…working odd jobs just enough for food and another ticket for a bus or train to get to places I cannot walk to or hitchhike.

I would like to think I would be able to build a foundation of my own. A non-profit liberal sort of place helping others.

But “being alone” is nagging me. What does being alone mean? I joke all the time I would be perfectly content living the life of hermit. But in that scenario I always include a herd of animals and vast amount of books and of course my hubby. I can even see myself being a crazy cat lady.

I can picture living a life of seclusion like that.  But still, that’s attachments. Animals are living creatures too. You have bonds with them. It’s love, a different form than a spouse, but it still is an attachment. It’s not being truly alone.

If I’m honest, really and truly, I think being alone would break me into a million pieces. I think what it is, I can deal with being alone, but not what being alone means.

Being alone means the loss of what I have. Of Love.

If I am utterly and completely alone that means I no longer have my hubby. Not having my Bianca. So writing this a battle is waging in my head. Fear is there flickering the flames. I have a hubby and I have my doggie and I have my best friends. I have those relationships and I have love. I have those bonds. I have those attachments. If I am alone it means I’ve lost those things. It’s heart breaking to ponder.

I would like to think I’m strong enough to pick myself up after a tragedy like that loss. I would like to think I’m strong enough  to persevere. Going on living a life those that I lost would be proud of. But, if I’m honest. I’m not. The reality, it’s 2am and I am on a train with people staring at the tipsy girl furiously writing with barely legible writing in a paper notebook all watery eyed. I’m emotional just thinking about it.

Some might feel a sense of responsibility to try to live a fulfilled life for those who cannot. But, if I’m honest I don’t see a fulfilled life is possible. I don’t see a  life worth living if I can’t share it with those I love.  No. I don’t want to live a life without my love. Without my dog. Hell, I don’t want to live a life without my blog either.  That counts too because it’s connections, bonds with my cyber family. Being alone, utterly completely alone means living a life without attachments and connections and bonds.  For me, that means no hubby, no Bianca, no besties, no animals and no blog. I would feel like a lost child.

To be alone is to be without people you love and people who love you. Being alone to me means being without love.

I can’t picture a world without love.

Life seems almost not willing to live without love. But, more accurately,  if I’m alone, that means that MY love, my hubby, is  no longer with us and if he is not here that is a world I do truly do not WANT to live in.

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