Yesterday

Yesterday, I wanted to hear words that I didn't hear.  I wanted to be missed.  I wanted to be necessary.  I wanted my friends to say, "it won't be the same without you."  I wanted it.  In a deep part of my soul.  Longed for it.  There was an event at church that I've gone to for years.  But I felt awkward going alone.  Felt like I wouldn't have anyone to talk to.  And that is probably true.  And not going didn't kill me.  But the longing aches.  It pulses and throbs.  The wishing.  Hoping.  To be seen.  To be known.  To be......wanted.
It was hard.
It IS hard.
I get the "can you..." calls.
I get the "I need....." calls.
I get the "my kid needs..." calls.
I get the information calls....."be at .....by.....".
But I don't get the calls that are that special thing.
It's the difference between getting junk mail, form letters, group letters, or REAL MAIL.
Real mail feels so good.
Just for me.
With me in mind.
Thinking of me.  Letting me know that I'm still a part of their heart/s.
So, I made it through another day of no real mail.  Of not hearing the words that I desired so desperately.  And that's ok.  It's ok to admit what I wanted, needed, desired, hoped for....and didn't get.  It's ok to be sad.  But sad without it knocking me down.  I noted it.  I grieved it.  I went on with my day and my week.  Oh, I cried a bit, but that was just cleaning out the pain.  It has to leak out or it builds up.
But this fact.
This thing that has happened.
This being not invited, not missed, not someone of interest.  THIS has been harder than the divorce.
Because it's from people I respect.
It's from people I believe to be kind.  Loving.  Inclusive.
Making it even harder.
But I constantly let it go.
I texted a friend and said that I wanted to go to the event but that I didn't want to go alone.
But as I thought about it...it's nobody else's job to be with me.  If it feels like a job and not a pleasure for them, then I need to respect that.
I can only change me.  And I can't change to be different so that people see me.  Hear me.
I hear of the people getting together.  People that used to be my friends too.
And now.  Now?  I get the messages sent by kids that "my mom wants to have coffee with you sometime."
Or I get the "we should go out sometime...."
I've finally figured out that sometime mostly means never.  I'm a little bit slow.
But all is not lost.
I'm facing it.  I'm learning to not base my love for me on how others respond to me.  Big thing.
Yesterday was hard.  The residual knowledge is hard for today.
But, look how strong I am.  I stayed upright.  I got things done.  I chose to not wallow in it.
I spent many years doing all of the reaching out.  Starting all of the conversations.  Looking for things others would want to do.  Or want to talk about.  And now?  Now, I figure that maybe if nobody ever invites you back.  If they don't ask you first.  If they don't say those words that let you know that you're missed.  Then....well.....you probably aren't.  And that's how it is.  And it's no good convincing.  Because....real is more important than fake.
Life will go on.
I will have joy.
Even in the grief.
And peace.
This journey isn't over.
My story might just help someone else know that all is not lost.
May it be so.
blessings.