I have been haunted by a nagging compulsion to make sense of my life for the last several years. It became even more intense upon the demise of this, my last marriage. Something is pushing me down this path. I feel agitated every time I put this “project” on hold. I will have no peace until I do. It seems like a silly and useless thing to do. The past can’t be changed. I can’t change myself much at my age. My life shaping decisions were made long ago when I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I have passed more than the halfway mark in my life. What is the point? I don’t have too many places to go in the future. What could the future possibly have in store for me at this time in my life? Still some irrational force is pushing me to sift through my life.
Venice, Rome, Florence, Piso, Orvieto – great food, great sights, great history, great wine, great company, exhilarating romance. Is there a better place to fall in love than Italy? Romance does not always have to lead to commitment except for me. I hadn’t learned as much as I thought I guess. I was raised that love and sex could not be separated from commitment. This new generation seems to be at the other end of the spectrum – sex without love or commitment. As a therapist said to me, “You don’t have to marry everyone you have sex with.” If only I could have internalized that.
Perhaps my Sister put it best when she so crudely said, about the trip to Italy , “I thought you just wanted to get laid. You didn’t have to turn it into something more”. If only I had listened to my Sisters vulgar words of wisdom. What if I had taken her advice? What would my life look like now? Would I be happier or more content? Did I get anything positive out of my last marriage or was it all just one big terrible mistake? What if I read too much into my chance encounter with Warren? What if “Fate” really had other choices in mind for me other than the one I took?
