Home Alone in the Burg
Estimated reading time: 14 minutes, 24 secondsLosing at Love and
Afraid to Try Again!
Mia’s boom box was on the top of the stoop of the St. John’s Lutheran Church rectory, and the music was loud enough that anyone on that block of Maujer Street could hear. It was mid-September 1973, and I was relaxing with Mia, Earl, and six other friends. The harsh summer heat had left, but it was still mild enough to sit outside without a jacket. After a summer road trip that had left me alone and adrift, it was a pleasure to be back in Brooklyn with my friends.
Gladys Knight and the Pips‘ song “Neither One Of Us” played on the boom box.
“So, Richard, how are you feeling now that you no longer have an imaginary girlfriend,” Mia inquired.
A round of chuckles greeted Mia’s reference to my imaginary girlfriend.
Even though I knew one day someone would ask that question, I was not expecting it at that moment. For eighteen months, I had told everyone that I had a girlfriend, and she was the only one for me. Everyone had decided she was imaginary because they had never met her, she never called me, and I never got any mail from her.
As Gladys says, it is sad.“
My friends on the stoop nodded their heads.
“It’s over, and there is nothing I can do about it.”
“Maybe you should get a new girlfriend,” someone suggested. “That’s what I would do!”
“If you have a terrible breakup, the best option is to find someone new,” Mia explained.
I shook my head.
“No, I have loved and lost and am in no hurry to lose again.”
Richard, to be honest, you look like you were run over by a Mack truck.
“That’s why I cannot and will not try again.”
Gladys’s voice filled the air again.
If you do not try again, you may never be happy.”
If I thought it would work, I might try. But having lost again at love, I am happy not having a girlfriend. I have friends, and as Carole King and James Taylor says, ‘You Got A Friend!‘ What more do I need in life?”
Mia turned down the volume on the boom box, and my friends on the stoop started singing acapella,
Walking east on Maujer Street to my cold, empty apartment, I wondered if I would ever find love again. Would I be OK if I never loved again?
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.