I am a slow grower. In my early years i grew sort of average. But in my twenties it was clearer. I had sex with someone when i was twenty-eight years old. A bit late. After that short time of only two months of having a boyfriend i decided that the next time i would like to be really in love. Not that i didn’t enjoy that first friendship, but it didn’t feel like i was in love at the time.

Then I didn’t understand the concept of being in love. I am not even sure if i completely understand it right now. When i was younger it was a mixture of physical attraction and a feeling of admiration and adoration. I am not sure i can actually describe what it felt like at that time to feel in love.

My years of solitude, described in Eight years of silence, are still so important to me. A stop to my work on, a stop to seeing my old friends, a massive World of Warcraft playing addiction. No love in that time for me.

At the end of these eight years i did fell in love. It was completely imaginary. All in my head. It was physical too. But, not real. A safe escape from the more ordinary, daily reality of being in love with somebody who loves you back. Something i until this day have not experienced with somebody else.

The past years i did fall in love with men i met, mostly from the garden. But those were short time experiences, lasting only a few months at the longest. Nice men, yes. But it didn’t stick to me. I learned every time though.

So here i am, 56 years old for only a couple of weeks more. So many things i have not experienced. Never been truly in love in a happy relationship. I have never had children. Something i had to deal with.

But over the past five years i did grow on. I felt it. Sometimes i fell back, sometimes i stumbled. But i did grow. This past year, in which i lived in rooms in other people’s houses, was a learning experience.

This will not stop. Until i die that is. Every single day each person can learn something new, big or small.

I do hope one day i will meet someone i will fall in love with and who will fall in love with me. But that is not the story of my life. The story of my life is me struggling and trying and failing against all hope. For the past fifty-six years.

Published on February 11, 2021 at 6:00 by

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