Six months is a long time.
Things change, people change, lives change, the seasons change at least two to three times depending on when the six months started.
In six months, lots of good progress can be made, new things can be explored, and challenges overcome – or at the very least faced.
You can feel more comfortable with yourself. Feel a little more relaxed about things. Be able to get up and say that hey, at least today will be that little bit better than yesterday.
But then tomorrow comes.
And it isn’t the day you were promised in the pop song that Annie Lennox and David A. Stewart sang in 1985.
That presumes of course, possibly falsely, that 80’s pop songs were ever a good yard stick for life and expectations.
Like the evil foot solider of an enemy thought long vanquished, clad in black and blending in with the surroundings that nobody else might see it, the unexpected reappears in a dark alleyway at the one moment you’d least welcome its arrival.
I wrestled with what to title this post. There were so many other one word descriptions that came to mind, but in the end – as more often than not – I drew inspiration in part from Lennox and Stewart; and also from Episode 155 – the last episode of the final series, of The West Wing (I’m sure you know how much of a fan I am of this long finished show).
The episode to me is a reflection, in parts, on decisions made by you, and for you, and the opportunities lost. The decisions we struggle with, in the vein hope that what we do today creates a better tomorrow. For ourselves, our friends, our family, those who’s opportunities of tomorrow are closely aligned to the decisions we make today.
That might be overselling things a bit given the context, but it gives me to pause to reflect on the past six months, and a change of direction that – for better or worse – is likely happening tomorrow night, and how much of a positive impact this time has had.
It’s likely not a change I want to happen. Reverting back to almost a previous status quo, not being able to enjoy something specific in the way I have recently, and likely not attaining anywhere near as much opportunity for pleasure in the physical and emotional context that the last six months have brought – no matter how limited that pleasure might have been.
I see this women as my equal in so many senses.
Putting aside all that has happened in the last six months, even before then – this is a women who’s company, intellect and conversation I’d crave.
If it was possible to pick from a menu and find another women with all her skills, her knowledge, talents and abilities, the lust for life – please tell me where that women is and how I find her.
I feel annoyed in some respects. Because there’s, at least to me, still more than a few miles left on the clock for what this has been in the current context.
I don’t feel that the current context has reached the end of a road, or a natural conclusion, and that I’ve been able to grow personally anywhere near as much as I might want, or need, to – I feel there’s still more unexplored opportunity for that.
And I also fear what comes next.
As someone for whom, you’re likely aware, has been perpetually lonely and led a life sadly lacking the physical validation and emotional nourishment that comes from any such experience – will I ever experience this again?
Given the disappointment that has come before, and likely will continue to come – where is what I seek to be found, and on which of the tomorrows might this come.
I am left to ruminate today, if I’d have ended up in the city at a high school reunion party that Saturday night instead of Leederville.
If I’d not had the iPad with me as a distraction on a train journey for something to read, and used a certain application, looking through photos and finding hers.
If I’d not started a gentlemanly, respectful and friendly conversation with a good friend, only to uncover a nugget of truth.
If I’d let that nugget of truth slip through the cracks.
Where would I be today? Would I be feeling the way I am now? Have I been blinded as a result to other opportunities that have passed me during this time? Would I have done, or have been able to do the things that I’ve enjoyed during this time.
So many questions. What Ifs. Whys and wherefores. Like the choose your own adventure books of our childhood, but targeted at a more discerning adult audience.
These things, like all matters in life, come to pass. When you’ve waited as long as I have, you do get sick of having to ask the question of when your time will come to have that which you so greatly crave.
It’s not an outcome I’d want to happen, but it’s one that – for better or for worse, I’ll have to respect.
And hope, possibly in vain, that somewhere, the women I seek, is out there, ready to be found.
If not today, then hopefully, on another tomorrow.
All things empty 