Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Rowing That Darned Boat

Was talking to a close friend yesterday about being chronically single and battling a horrific fear of intimacy at a rapidly advancing age.
I told him how, just that morning, I'd walked into a book store (my path to inner peace goes via the shopping mall) and stumbled upon a touching tableau - a mother buying her infant daughter her first book.
Now I've seen squealing babies in the park, I've seen kids snuggling up to their mummies and daddies, who lovingly wipe the snot and spit off their faces and I've gotten sentimental enough. But this image was mine. This was supposed to be my thing to do with my kid - bonding over Dr. Seuss or See Spot Run or Jataka Tales. It made me very weepy (I've been a bit of an MCD tap lately - waterworks when least expected, dry when required).

So, as I was saying - I spoke to my friend about my moment and he seemed most unimpressed. He's a couple of years older than I am, as woefully single as me and I suspect, as clueless as I am about what goes into making a healthy, grown-up, intimate relationship with a member of the opposite sex. When I told him I felt I had missed the boat he was vociferous in his belief that I was very much on that boat, that I'd not tipped overboard yet.

How do you know?
Because I'm rowing that boat. And there are plenty others on it.
I'm not alone?
You're not alone.
So, you're rowing this boat and you're sure I'm on it with you?
And you say there are others right with me?
Yup. The boat is abso-friggin-full.


So we're on this boat in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by a bunch of people all headed for the same destination,all hoping to stop feeling alone?

That's right.


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