Killing Time

I’m a big movie watcher; it’s one of my favorite things to do. Naturally, I am up to approximately 308 movies in the DVD collection (give or take), which I frequently lend out to my friends – after a few times I realized that I needed to write down who had what DVD, because invariably I would find myself impulse-buying the same movie over again. When the original was returned to me I would discover I owned two copies of it!... I guess I am pretty consistent in my likes and dislikes, especially where movie plots are concerned.

Left to my own devices, I am a bit of a hermit. My tendency is to stay holed up in my house, in my pajamas, either sitting in front of my computer working, or sleeping, or watching one of those 308 movies. It finally occurred to me, today, on a Saturday night, that one day for me is very much like the next; my activities don’t vary all that much, unless one of my friends calls me up and invites me to do something – come over for dinner, go shopping, have a cup of coffee – and I’m sitting here thinking about the solitude of my life. Maybe one day, no one will be calling me up and I will just “disappear”… would that be such a bad thing? If this idea of being alone bothered me, wouldn’t I be trying to get out and socialize more?

Earlier, the thought crossed my mind that I was waiting for my husband to get home so we could do something fun together – on those days when he would go out for a ride on his motorcycle with his buddies, that’s usually how the day would end – I would work on my computer, do some laundry, take a nap, think about what to make for dinner – and in the middle of all of this, I would hear the rumbling of his Roadstar turning the corner of our street, knowing in a few seconds I would see his headlights shining into our front door as he clicked the garage door opener and coasted to a stop inside the garage. Inside the garage he would take off his gloves, then his helmet, hang up his leather jacket, walking into the house – looking tired, with dirt on his face. But when he saw me, his eyes would light up and I would walk over to him, throw my arms around him for a big hug, feel his arms tighten around me in return, and give him a big kiss on the lips… afterward he would smile, give me a “Hey, Babe,” and my response, “Hi, Bunny!” and proceed to tell me about his day.

I feel so lost; unfinished, in a way… every day that goes by is kind of like that movie “Groundhog Day” (one of my favorites; I love Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell – and I like movies with a message, when one of the characters is changed for the better in some way)… I never get to the day AFTER. I’m a hamster on a wheel, just running and running and running and not going anywhere.

Time is a funny thing. Five wonderful years of marriage – poof! In the blink of an eye. One night alone – an eternity, each individual grain of sand dropping through a miniscule hole in the neck of the hourglass. Excruciating. Torture. But, if there’s one thing that can always be counted on: things will change. Highs and lows, ebbs and flows. Someday in the future, that hamster wheel is going to break, and I am going to break out of this emotional cage. And things will be better for me. Settled.

And when I get THAT far… then I can look ahead to happiness and fulfillment, something I can only imagine and don’t yet see. But if it’s one thing I’ve got, it’s imagination.