Monday, March 31, 2008

On Being Alone

Crazy Aunt Purl says it best in her book, Drunk, Divorced & Covered in Cat Hair:
I don't want to be one of those women who needs a man for my life to hold any kind of value or purpose or meaning. But Lord, it felt nice to have a man place his hand on the small of my back and usher me through a door like a lady. All at once, I remembered the things I missed most about men, having someone touch your face, run a finger along your jawline, tell you that you look nice this evening, look at you that way. It makes you feel sexy to the bottoms of your toes; you walk taller, something changes, people sense it in you, you feel desired.

It's not quite the same to look in the mirror at yourself and say, "Not too shabby!" or whatever your internal pep-talk sounds like. There's just nothing I can tell myself in a mirror that comes close to that moment when you're sitting at the table and you look up from the salad plate or reach for a glass of wine, and his eyes are on you and you smile, and you feel warm all over.

It's a delicious thing. I guess maybe I never want to reach a place where I don't need it, even if that makes me a simpering old romantic fool.

1 comment:

Gypsy at heart said...

Well said. I know the feeling and dredge up my memories with joy and nostalgia.