To My Future Self, Partnered (a poem) — Who but You? living alone series

Late afternoon light art greeting me after work.  In my living room.  Albuquerque, New Mexico.  Photo credit:  ka
Late afternoon light art greeting me after work.  Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Photo credit:  ka

It’s 6:00 at night ___ years ago

You’re eating alone

The meal is steaming on your plate

The presentation is restaurant-quality

You served it to yourself

The kitchen is colorful

your home is your nest

Your bed takes you

and tucks you in

You sleep alone

You shower and shop

and walk and bike

and write and read

alone

You’re you and you

alone

You should know by now

that solitude doesn’t mean

lonely

just as relationships

don’t save you from the

inevitable:

that you’re you

through sleek rains and

blinding blizzards

That you’re you

through droughts as dry as

a hundred cotton balls stuffed

into a hung-over mouth

That you’re you

at others’ weddings

You’re you

at funerals

Remember this time

Whomever claims that a partner

is needed

hasn’t tasted your meals

seated solo at your table

a single candle lit

and the cold wind outside

heard but not felt.

–Kim Adonna–
2013

Raised, from the age of 10, by a single, hardworking, bookworm mom, I experienced the sweetness of quiet time, as she and I read side-by-side most nights, dogs and cats curled up nearby.  I understood the value in building one’s own sanctuary in a hectic world.  It wasn’t until my late 30’s, however, that I called those early memories into actual action.  Perpetually one to become absorbed in relationships – often placing another’s needs before my own – I gradually learned to love my own company.  Especially after attending funerals and mourning the loss of many loved ones, I couldn’t ignore the difficult but necessary and magnificent art of caring for oneself.  What other choice did I have than to feel strong enough to live?  Home alone, I gather energy and courage to get out there — chin up, eyes on the sky, saying “Thank you for this.”

Among other jobs, I work as a speech and language pathologist in the public schools.  My dream is to also support elders and other medically fragile people who live alone.

I’m the creator of this blog.  Thank you so much for reading.

Me, in my office at one of my schools.   Photo credit:  ka
Me, in my office at one of my schools.
Photo credit:  ka

This is part of the Who but You? living alone series.  Check out the other posts!  They are published every Monday.

Join the Who but You? project:  e-mail your story, prose, poetry, art and/or photos about living alone to powerofpaperzines@gmail.com for consideration.  Please include a brief Bio, photos (with photo credits), and your pen/real name.  For more information:  https://whobutyouproject.wordpress.com/who-but-you-series/.

Thank you for taking the time to view the works of independent storytellers, poets and artists.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Love their about drought and cotton balls in a hungover mouth and being you at weddings and funerals. Indeed! And I’m glad you’re You! Thanks for sharing!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. K. Adonna says:

      Thank you, Susana! It was fun to write this piece. ❤

      Like

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