An Accidental Mother (17 page)

I realize I am finding ways to live a life without Michael in it, but I never stop thinking about him, and I never stop missing him. I have lost the fifteen pounds, I have changed my hairstyle. I have purchased new clothes and wear high heels more often. I make a trip with friends to the annual motorcycle rally in Laughlin, Nevada, something I've done (with and without Jim) for the past ten years. I drink and dance and gamble and welcome flirtations from attractive men. I return home and begin to accept invitations to date, but I know I am ready for no more than an occasional dinner companion. When I come across a man with
young children, I am torn between wanting to run away from all the potential complications and heart-ache and wanting to cleave to them just to be around a small person again. It feels strange to be dating; it feels odd to be kissed good-night. I wonder how it was that Jim could—and would—find someone almost instantly when a year after our breakup, I am overwhelmed by the prospect of more than one dinner invitation in the same week.

But I am living my life, and I am living it without Michael—what other choice do I have? In the meantime, I write my letters.

And I continue to hope with all hope that someday I will see him again.

Thanks to Fred and Claudia for their
invaluable guidance on the manuscript
.

Thanks to Candida, who has always encouraged
and inspired me to write—and keep writing
.

And thanks to Gordon—for a million things—but
most of all for the time, space and place to write.
And the constant badgering
.