Jan 04, 2016 10:35
I sit here writing for what a journal should be (at least to me), a place to spill my private thoughts without judgement, or the journal looking back at me telling me I'm crazy.
I sit here on a grey Key West morning. The breakfast was good enough, people are polite enough, but I'm lonely.
It's my birthday. It's not the first birthday I've spent alone but it is the first I've spent alone away from home. I did this to myself, but I knew I would just be home alone as my birthday fell on a Monday and my mom was traveling today.
So here I sit, smoking, drinking water and lonely.
And just got interrupted by a New Yorker and talked Broadway for ten minutes. What a revitalizing way to remind me why I like gay resorts. I'm actually a little less lonely now.
But in any case, being single needs to stop. It's time for a husband and to do these travels with someone I love, who loves me back.
So I'll make the best of my loneliness, and I'll never lose hope that even as I turn 38, the man of my dreams is looking for me right now. I'm here sweetie, waiting for you. I'll keep the seat next to me warm for you.