Yesterday, I helped the Baron with his move, loading up my jeep with his... ummm... precious belongings, and hauling them up to his new digs.
Among the stuff we transported yesterday was the Baron's music. As he pointed out, "Once your music is out of there, it's not your home any more."
"Look at these!" he said, and showed me a couple of mix tapes that I'd made for him eightteen years ago. I plugged them right into the tape deck. Now, overall, I make a pretty good mix tape. Ask the Baron and he'd say I make an excellent mix tape.
But one of my selections back then in 1989 made me cringe: "Somebody" by Depeche Mode.
"I want somebody to love, for the rest of my life..."
It's just way too much. Laying it on with a trowel.
I cringed thinking about that 1989 version of me, sitting there on my mattress on the floor while "Somebody" played on my tape deck, thinking, "Yeah. Oh yeah. Will I ever find that somebody?"
I think it hits me that way because it's coming from a place of need, along the lines of, "I want someone to complete me, to make me whole." In other words, I don't want to be lonely ever again.
That way madness lies.
I'm not being anti-somebody here, just anti-"Somebody." I don't need somebody. And if the truth be told, I don't particularly want somebody.
More correct to say that after forty-two years, I've taken this ride as far as it will go. I've seen just about all I can from behind these two eyes of mine. I'm ready for a new vehicle, a "we" rather than an "I."
But I'm cool.
As I mentioned to IcarusPNW this afternoon when we were IMing back and forth, Life promises nothing except hardship, loss, and disappointment. That's what's due to us. That's what we can look forward to. But whenever something comes along that's not that, it's miraculous. It's wonderful. And we should be profoundly grateful for it. I count among my sins not always recognizing the great gift that a Somebody represents when a Somebody came along.