The ApronThere are times when a single woman has to prop herself up. She'll use lots of rhetoric to defend her position. She'll keep a stiff upper lip. She'll be steady on. And most of the time she'll actually believe her own marketing. She'll convince herself that life is good--even though she goes to bed alone every night, even though she sometimes wonders if there's something wrong with her, even though deep down she still whispers I love you to no one at all--Because life is good: The Packers won! Kevin Garnet is now a Celtic! Perfect necklaces exist and I have the money to treat myself to one! I fit into a size 10 again!
But occassionally, the bravado drops away and we're faced with the raw truth. We're alone and the solitary life is sometimes hard. Last night was just that moment for me. I tied my apron on and something inside me deflated. Even though I had a nice time cooking for my friend, something inside me longed to be tying that apron on for my man, my beloved. To be cooking and sharing food and stories of the day in an intimacy that you can only have with your beloved, your husband. Now, I've never been married and I'm sure that my imagination makes that moment much cozier and dreamier than it would be in 'real life'; but still, I confess my longing.
Perhaps I should just quit wearing aprons?