Wednesday, October 01, 2014

From "Sunday" by Julie Newmar (March '08)

Newmar wrote this entry on her website in '08, when she was 74.

http://www.julienewmarwrites.com/story.php?idStory=59

I have lost the interest of this man. I am clearly heartbroken. I wish he would tell me point blank what he didn’t like about me, though perhaps it’s better not. I’ll just have to deduce this, which is more than painful enough.

Fact. I have not heard from him in two and a half days and it is like shooting oneself in the stomach, an immolation, a needless task. Of course, I will remove myself from anyplace not wanted and “belong” where life gives me force. I shall pack up my feelings and relocate, letting cyberspace—the fun I have at the computer—along with its new contacts absorb some of my passion. I was, even from my point of view toward this man, way too forthright. Right or wrong, it didn’t match his needs. I am chastened, reduced in size. The world holds much more for me. I accept the rejection, we all have had to do that. ...

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When I was forced home financially to Austin from NYC in 2010, I remember a conversation with my sister-in-law at my lowest point: "If no one loved me when I was young and cute, who's going to love me now?" I, at 45 at that time, had absolutely no hope for anything, much less love. I am only gradually moving out of that ugly state; this highly personal revelation from Newmar at age 74 helped to enlighten me about a fact of life: Love is eternal, ageless. I, at 49, have many others in my future to experience, be heartbroken about, and recover from! :) 

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