I spent New Year’s Eve sitting cozily in bed reading a book, Saving Fish From Drowning, by Amy Tan. It was lovely. New Year’s Day I went to a Danish friend’s house to join her family for a Danish smorgasbord. That was lovely too. A year ago I would have been lonely, depressed.
I feel like the European Union. They have fought themselves out, and are now willing to make the necessary sacrifices of chest-thumping nationalism in order to maintain peace. Around 70% of European citizens rated peace as their highest priority, the aspect of membership in the European Union which they valued the most highly. I, too, feel fought out. Louis died, Benjamin and I became dear friends but not lovers, Jack dumped me, Daniel only does what Daniel wants, I don’t exist in that relationship, except for his own fulfillment. The non-romantic sides of my life have blossomed, with the addition of several wonderful female friends, and, more importantly, the birth of my grandson. The pain of rotating romance has become toxic; peace has become paramount. My relationships now are slow building ones. Quiet, friendship-based, slow to move to sex.
Is it possible that I have finally grown up? Is the terrible cold that has kept me home for the past few days addling my brain? I don’t think so. There is more to life than love, and certainly more to love than sex. That is a lesson I should have learned at 18, but better late than never.