You might be forgiven for thinking, from the poetry I have been reading and reposting lately, that there is still some residual bitterness in my heart.  Not so, Dear Reader.  It is rather as if I recognise in the poetry a quality I had not previously seen, possibly in the same sense that a picture of the Eiffel Tower would have more significance to one who has actually stood beneath it.

I have been there.  I understand what the poet is saying.  I find this an excellent way to externalise the vestiges of pain and look upon it objectively.  Plus it is a valid reminder that one is never alone.  Someone else has travelled the same road. There is also a little of the “Wish I had said that” in the reposting.  I do like a well-chosen phrase.

It is nearly three years now since I last had a cuddle, so to speak, and almost exactly two years since I learned I would not be getting any cuddles on my return from Fiji.

At this time I have found I can exist pretty well without, and fully expect to continue to do so indefinitely.   There is certainly no potential cuddlee in the offing around here.  I actually ruminated recently,  for the first time ever, on whether it might be interesting, entertaining,  or perhaps even beneficial to my mental well-being, to engage the professional services of an expert cuddler.  I have no idea where to find one, except in Kalgoorlie.  A long way to go!

I have no real interest in a transaction of that nature.  In a very detached and academic self assessment, the conclusion I very easily reached was that cuddling – like scuba diving -was a very enjoyable pastime, and an uplifting experience.  Both at one time or another had been the very core of my existence, but I was managing very well without both.  I have fond memories.   On the other hand, I still have my mask, snorkel and flippers.

And let us not forget; two motorcycles.


About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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3 Responses to Ruminations

  1. Pilgrim33 says:

    Probably TMI for public perusal but quite understandable.
    I think the problem is that ,some,men believe the romantic ideal ware as ,most,women indulge in it while not believing.


  2. Alan says:

    No need for that old friend. I really do not feel bitter. I may not have been the perfect companion anyway, but my one good quality (in my own estimation) is loyalty. I would never have ended the relationship myself, despite its flaws. And it did have flaws. In a way, I may be better off single, and I got here without breaking my principles. I now look on the stint in Fiji as a test of the relationship. Maybe subconsciously I did all along… Who knows?

    Sorry about the TMI. This is not a real blog but my journal, remember, addressed to a hypothetical future me.


  3. Pilgrim33 says:

    While I would not suggest bitterness as a long term,high intensity strategy I could sympathize with a mental note to hope to be behind someone on a long down escalator in an almost-empty mall.


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