Getting dumped never helps with my confidence Now I’m back to dreading my neck, which is sliding down into my throat. The turkey waddle. Yeah. Not good.
Even if I decide to try to date in hopes of finding a life partner I fear it’s just too late. I’m not at my prime. Not by decades.
Of course I hope to find someone who is not so petty as to find a woman his own age “too old”, but my time in dating showed me that those are few and far between. I’m not going to date someone 10 years older who thinks I’m the oldest they should date. Too bad because then the pool would be sizable. I thought I’d found a man who was someone I could build a life with but he’s decided that he’s not interested in a relationship after all. Maybe I’m not worthy of interest. Or relationship.
I’m looking towards 50 and it’s terrifying. I’m struggling through perimenopause and it’s terrifying. I’m looking at the country I live in and it’s terrifying. I thought I had a partner which made these things less terrifying. Love, affection, company, these are things that make life worth living. They make the terrifying parts of life, the rapidly sliding neck, manageable, even laughable at times. Now it’s just lonely terror.
I miss him. I feel so stupid for the plans we’d made, for thinking we had a real bond, a future. But I have to make my own future, alone.
I’m wishing I could go back to Iceland. It always fills my soul up with love and a kind of energy that I don’t feel here at home. I feel at home there in a way I just don’t feel where I actually live. I miss my friends there. I miss the swimming pools. I even miss the breadcheese. I’m always dreaming of a future where I can magically live there somehow. Maybe there is a way.
I’d certainly be able to wear scarves most of the year, solving my neck dilemma!