i’ve grown accustomed to the idea of dying alone

of trips to the hospital

rehabbing from whatever surgery and saying no

it’s just me

hoping the kids come visit to break up the humdrum solitary existence

not sleeping next to someone

holding then tight when a nightmare strikes

the nagging

one of us

me

leaving dirty clothes on the floor instead of the hamper

one of us

me again

taking something for granted instead of praising the mundane task as the real effort applied

not sharing cooking turns

always doing the dishes

gathering the laundry i left all over the place

not putting my shoes up

it clicked that this is what my life has become

what it most likely will end as

am i okay with it

don’t have a choice really

so

each day when i come home to the quiet house

no hug to greet me

no fight over what i’m in the mood for dinner even though it will probably be shot down

it is what it is

i don’t have to like it

but i have to live it

and adjust accordingly

as my friends are married with kids full time and i am just a part time father

full time loner

incapable lover

we can only play the hand we are dealt

and for me it turned out the game is solitare

great fodder for writing

bad for looking forward to tomorrow

just an ugly old toad on a lillypad for one

i probably blew every chance i was afforded