I am seriously considering just driving home. It is morning and I am kind of lonely. I realize that last night was the first night of my entire trip that I spent alone, unless you consider the red-eye on the flight from Salt Lake City, but I don't think that counts. Now, I like to be alone, I really require enormous amounts of alone time, which you think would make me "low maintenance" but, really, I require so much alone time that I think it starts to swing back in the direction of "high maintenance". It can be hard to plan things with me because I already have all my seemingly "free" time spoken for, filled up with my "alone time" things. But despite voluntarily spending a lot of time alone, I do not like to be lonely. You would think that someone who needs so much alone time would not get lonely, but we do and it sucks. I think this is one of the reasons why Paul and I are such a good match, we both like a lot of alone time, which we can have, together. So here, I am a bit puzzled by why I am feeling lonely. But I am. I am pulled because I want to continue to explore but I want to be home, in my familiar surroundings. I guess I am missing having meaningful, human connection, which I can't really have with strangers, if I were even "connecting" with strangers, which I have not done on this trip. It is kind of hard to do when you sit in your car driving most of the time.
I stop in the visitor's center and show my yearly park pass and get a map. Then I start up the scenic road.
|Cabin in the Woods|
|River in the Woods|
"Okay, thanks. I will." I assure him. I am snapping away some photos of the pools for several minutes, maybe ten minutes or more. When the older man says, "Young lady, make sure you step back here and take a look up at the view." Geezus, I will already, can you cut me a freaking break? Does he want me to do it right then and there just to make him feel better? This man, whom I owe nothing, is not going to tell me what and when I should freaking do something. I want to tell him to go mind his own business, that pointing out something once is plenty enough times. But all I say is, "Okay" in a monotone voice and then, barely missing a beat, I go back to exactly what I was doing. He and his wife leave. I mean, the guy seemed really nice, but don't push your concern on me like that, there is nothing that turns me off faster.
|Reflection in Pool|
When I get back to my room, I am feeling disappointed, forgotten and lonely again. I feel foolish too, for racing back to Las Vegas, which I generally deplore, to see my friend who seems to have forgotten that we made a date only yesterday to get together today. You see, when I make a date with someone I keep it. When I make time in my schedule for someone, I keep it. My time is so precious to me that it actually feels like a huge investment for me to give it up to spend with someone else. If I make time for you than you are important to me, I don't make time for just anyone. But not everyone feels this way and over the years, they generally have ceased to be close friends with me (or I with them, for that matter). So instead, I digest my crappy Thai food in a dingy motel surrounded by bars in one of my least favorite cities, lovely Las Vegas.