Want to save this letter now that you've found it?
It's easy - just create your own collection of letters after signing up for a free account.
It’s spring all around, even though it’s raining. The world lives in couples- they’re everywhere. And another years passes, me with out a companion. It seems to bother me less and less each year and I know that it could cause some conflict with my plans for the future. Yet when spring comes- or special holidays, I get melancholy thinking about having some one to share it with.
I ask a lot and not unlike 10,000 other suburban single mothers of the bay area, I rationalize my life away by saying- “ I’m just too particular “ when in actual fact this situation is not entirely of my own making. Too many broken families, too many people not knowing what they want or value and just moving with the tide.
I see friends desperately searching for some one and I am sure suffering quietly in the loneliness of their empty beds. Unlike them. I can see my life rich and full of meaning regardless- No, not false bravado- just reality.
As time goes on I can see that metaphor I mentioned to C. as one which is a real fact of my existence. My life is a symphony with all it’s up’s and downs. More and more when a sad twinge comes at the sight of some event that inspires melancholy, it is just the cello or a bassoon sounding in what is only a split second of melody that is my life. How much of a reflection is my life of a greater existence? That of love which is the infinite , the uncomprehensible. If I am a reflection, the whole symphony depends on the quality of each note played to perfection- Then I must not dwell on one note too long for there is a whole symphony to be heard.
I must remember to defy gravity- and so far so good. With all that has happened in my life, it could be so much worse.
- Gail Brough