This is Why I Journal/Blog …Why am I Feeling Lonely?

I felt it hit at munch this week.  Here I was surrounded by my best people.  Or at least a few hands full of them.  I love munches.  I get to laugh, talk about sex, be completely unfiltered and no one even bats an eye.  I schedule other events around munches, that is how important they are to me.  I sat down next to one of my best friends late in the evening.  I had to touch him.  I started rubbing his back, touching his hand, anything to feel close to him.  I leaned onto his shoulder.  He knew what I meant when I said to him, “I am touch needy tonight.”  He loved on me the best he could.  He let me love on him.  He let me be needy.

I went home.  I eventually crawled into bed with a couple of tears.  I knew I would be better with some sleep.  Sleep solves everything.  But I woke up feeling the same.  It was an emptiness.  The emptiness felt worse again as the evening set in.  I posted on a social media site, “My bucket needs filling. And it isn’t sex. I need intimacy, closeness, touch. I just need connection. I hate feeling needy. I’m not generally needy. Until I am empty.”  A girlfriend offered to come over.  And it might have been nice.  But I don’t know if it would have filled my bucket.  I told her I’d be fine until the weekend and then we could spend some quality time together, after my kids were gone.  Again it was late and I thought sleep would help.

A long distance friend popped up on my messenger and I said I was in a funk, that my bucket was empty.  He offered to call, so we talked while he drove home from his evening out.  I described my feelings to him and he said, “You are lonely.  Welcome to being single.”  I had said the word lonely earlier in the day.  But I didn’t want to admit I was lonely.  I would actually rather use the word needy.  Why do I feel shame about feeling lonely?

I’ve been the person surrounded by people yet not connected and felt lonely.  This isn’t it.  I am around great people, very regularly, and I connect with them.  I’m not a “generally lonely” person.  I am a “specifically lonely” person.  I am missing a piece of connection that is very specific.  It is intimacy and affection.  It is touch.  It is someone to share my fear and be vulnerable with.

My phone-a-friend last night followed his declaration of me being lonely with, “Now don’t run out and get a relationship!”  I immediately responded, “No way!”  I don’t feel this way often.  I never want to hunt for a relationship.  I certainly don’t want to get into a relationship to solve loneliness!

I just need those kind of friends that will come over and crawl in bed with me.  Maybe make out.  Maybe even have great sex.  (In editing this journal entry/blog post, this is the point in my process where it all starts to make sense as I let the words roll out of my head/heart and through my fingers.  This is where I start to understand the source of my uncomfortable feelings.)  I used to have a friend, and we are still friends, that all we did was grab drinks or dinner and then make out.  Occasionally I would even get a sleep over.  The best part was that it was consistent.  He was regular.  I could be dating a new guy every week and he was just that regular thing that I could count on.  We haven’t done that in a few months.  I think it has caught up to me.  I think that is what my bucket is missing.  That is the emptiness.

I feel better pin pointing it.  I do.  But I don’t have that kind of relationship with him anymore and that makes me maybe more upset than the occasional feeling of loneliness.  Expectations messed it up, my expectations.  I don’t know if that relationship will be renegotiated but I know that that kind of relationship is missing in my life.  I can now work to move forward and know what I need.  This is why I feel lonely.  This is why I journal and blog.  This is how I sort it out.

Edited to add:

That feeling of “a regular thing” I realize is really about feeling like I was someone’s first choice. I miss feeling like a first choice.  The ritual of being asked to dinner, that is missing.

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