I abhor it when I hear that someone is 'bored'. I can honestly say that I have never been bored. There is always something I could do. Something I have interest in. Something to read. Something to think about. Something to clean. This is harsh, but at times, I am a bit prejudiced against boredom. It seems to mark a lack of imagination. Of creativity. It is a weakness.
These same feelings are reserved for loneliness. Most often, I enjoy my time alone. I am used to my own company. In fact, I remember telling Jeff before we were dating that I wanted to marry a fisherman because they come home, we enjoy our time and then they 'go away' to leave me to my stuff for awhile. I have always thought loneliness to be a slight flaw. A lack of emotional sturdiness. This isn't to say that there were times that I felt some measure of loneliness too. I remember telling Jeff that I was lonely. That I needed him to come home. When he'd have been gone on long trips on the boat, I knew he was making a living for our family, I tried to not feeling resentment about it, but at times, I missed having him with me. And I felt lonely for his companionship.
But this, this is so fucking different. Even when he was gone and they were at sea for long periods, I felt close to him. He would call me every opportunity that he could. He was connected to me. We shared our children, our life and our love. We knew eachother so, so well. Even when we were angry or annoyed, we had this bond. The bond of people who love eachother and can call eachother 'husband' and 'wife'.
Now, there is nothing. There is this void. A blankness. Nothing resides there. It's a hole where that bond, that connection, lived. My side calls out...but there is no answer. There never will be. I am without love. I am without a connection. There is no one on the other end.
I just wish there was something to hold onto. Someone to cling to as I drown. Someone who noticed that I was gone. Someone who really knows me.
But that will never be again.