Alone

Sunday

She told the man,
in the Broadway hotel,
‘Nothing was stranger than being yourself.’

Alone, in your room you hide,
as the night goes by,
in the street outside.
-AS

I may be lonely, but I’m never alone.
-AC

So I sit here on a gray Woburn day, listening to the kids splash in the pool. An atrium is nice, I can hear and see people, but the fall rain and cold is beyond the glass.
Oh I suppose I could gaze at the pool, watch the people swim. But they are all kids, and I would look the pervert if I stood there gazing. Even more so if I stood on my balcony and gazed at the teenage girls using the exercise equipment below me.

The network is down here, so I cannot see if friends are online, cannot email or web surf. That leaves me to depend on myself for something to do. I got a little work done, read some reports, but I have to admit, I am a little bored. I have stories to finish, but today, the Muse just isn’t there. I know I have to be awfully clever to work my characters just right. I still don’t know how to handle Cindy and Auntie; I got to a point in the story and just couldn’t figure out how to tie them together, and to hint at what really happened. Oh I know the end, it’s just that I am at the 3/4 mark and can’t get past that point. It started as a small story, maybe five pages. But then it took off and I am up to a dozen pages already! Sometimes that happens. I start with a little idea and the next thing I know, I have a dozen chapters. Then the hard work begins; the careful plotting.
The easy times are when the idea hits, the cute little Muse is perched on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. The next thing I know, I am done and I have a nice little story. I like the Muse and she likes me. But at times, I guess she has things to do and just isn’t there. I guess I am not the only one she whispers to.

But the amusing thing is, that despite being alone these last two days, I am not lonely. In fact, I am rarely lonely. I’ll go to that Mexican restaurant down the street tonight and ask for a table for one. I hope I don’t see pity in the hostesses eyes, for I need it not. I am not alone. My thoughts churn in my head, I watch the people swirl around me, and I get ideas.
Other times, I think of my sweet wife and how soon I will be back at her side where I belong. But you know, she is never far away. Everywhere I go, she is with me. Even in my dreams, I can feel her presence. Always there, always steady and supportive.
So I am never lonely.