Why do I write? I write because I am lonely. I wasn’t always lonely it comes in waves. The last four years I haven’t been lonely, but I know I will be lonely. My companion is going away for a while. Say that in a hushed tone. He’s being forced to leave. Its not by my choice. So I know that the next five to twenty years will be lonely. Who knows what is in store for me?
But I know I have myself to keep company and writing is one way to do that. Its comforting to get thoughts on paper and screen and to feel them exiting my body. Some people turn to alcohol and drugs to get that sensation but I don’t do either. I just try swimming one stroke at a time until my feet can reach the shore. I tell myself that is how I am going to get over this tragedy, one step at a time, one moment at a time. But now I am not that sure.
But I have this outlet, I have my words. I can write about my journey. I can write about the things I love. I love my bird feeders. Currently I have a woodpecker treat bar, 2 suet cakes and 2 seed feeders. I love watching the birds on my porch as I sit in the living room. There is something about those innocent creatures finding all that they need in the world. They never worry about money. They never worry about being alone. Somehow they scrape by and manage. I will too.