Woman of Arrival

I'm listening to a "morning chill" Spotify playlist. It's got that easy listening FM for over 30 vibe. It's got all those songs that you romantically cling to in those early relationship times, the ones where, as they play, everywhere you look love inspires and butterflies abound.

It's taking me back to those days where, separated by miles from my new crush, my new love, my heart swelled and swooned at the thought of him.

Now, he's in the next room.

Long gone is the lustre, and I now romanticize being a spinster; being one of the the most logical people I know, this interests me.

Do I really want to be a spinster?

Yes, right now I do.

I love the person I live with. He is very kind, responsible, funny, sexy, energetic, he's intelligent. I also know that being alone is lonely - and I don't love or fair super well alone with my brain, or do I? I don't know really.

It just feels like I chew through relationships and that, maybe, I am a "man eater" ?

For some time now, I have imagined myself as a "woman of arrival" who is content, independent, and is never want for the company of a faithful and kind lover. They just don't live with me.

I have my own witch like den and I only take distractions as and when I want them.

Indeed. This is absolutely where I see myself. A kind, self-possessed, generous, magical, contented, beautiful woman of a certain age and agelessness.

I feel resigned, patient, happy, and sad all together.

I don't really know where to go with all this. It feels a little shut up and wait.