Beauty in the Breakdown

I don't go out. I don't get breaks. I don't hang out with other adults. I am isolated. And for now, thats okay. I make happy couples uncomfortable with my anger and my frustration and I am not able to be spontaneous enough for single people to want to be around.
I am climbing a mountain every day. I have a small breakdown around dinnertime when my kids are fighting. E is trying to eat a pound of butter (which she has liberated from the freezer and unwrapped most of) and put her hands over everything i am preparing to eat and X is whining about needing milk, how I am no fun, and how I am not doing anything he asks.
I yell. I am not a yeller. They get quiet. I apologize. I get frustrated and then i pull it back together and we have a good evening together. This happens every night.

I am trying to practice grace and being grateful. I have two beautiful children. They are bright and intelligent and funny and silly. People say I should be thankful I have them and that their father is not in the picture but still pays his support (hopefully that will continue). I am grateful for that. But that doesn't change the fact that they are also demanding and young and challenging.And i am alone.
I have wonderful parents who take them twice a week while i work, and an aunt and uncle who do enrichment activities with them every few months. But I am alone.

I work out most nights and run a business and i talk to friends. But I am an island. I miss conversation and support and grown human contact. And i am tired, so tired of trying to make something real out of the superficial connections of the online dating world. So I am retiring.

I am Brooke Davising (One Tree Hill is my guilty pleasure, and Brooke's ability to cope with her constantly giving herself away to have it handed back, is something i get.). I have been watching season six and i cry every episode. Ball. I am not a crier. I control. I push down and breathe, I don't cry. But the last few nights, alone in my room, I cry like a baby. Watching someone who has always been the best friend, the other girl, the second choice, become someone's first choice-someone's always-is pretty close to home. Especially when all I ever wanted from the time I was a little girl, was to be the person someone picked first.

Unless some guy is willing to put in some effort. Unless he pursues and views me like the girl he could want to spend his life with-i am uninterested in the chase. I am an island that no longer needs smoke signals from passing ships and planes. Unless someone chooses to visit or build a life here on island me, sail on my fine fellows-sail on.