Eric had to take a particularly long business trip and I was left livin the single life for several weeks. I was so bored and lonely I decided to take myself on a little weekend getaway to Santa Cruz. I planned the perfect trip: A cute hotel where I could sit by the pool, a ride on the Santa Cruz Mountain Steam Train, Mexican at my favorite Mexican joint, and a hike near the San Lorenzo river. A perfect weekend to perfectly distract me from my loneliness.

Only, as soon as I checked into the hotel I was thinking about how I needed to bring Eric back to check-out such an adorable place. As I walked down the main strip in Santa Cruz I kept thinking of all the stores we had visited together in the past. As I sat down to dinner I started wondering how I would pass the time waiting for food without my usual conversation partner. It turns out, getting away physically didn’t really get me away from my loneliness at all. All I wanted was a redo, a chance to do all of this stuff again, only with Eric next time; Eric being there would make it fun, Eric being there would make it feel meaningful, Eric being around makes an experience complete.

But as I sat there, waiting for my food, I thought about it a little bit more — Eric hates Mexican food, when he comes with me to Santa Cruz we never get to go to this restaurant I like so much. Eric’s not really a fan of sitting by the pool either. If he had been there when I went into all those Main Street stores I would have felt like my shopping was rushed. The best part of my day was spent wading through the San Lorenzo River but  Eric doesn’t really like getting wet.  Suddenly I realized –at least on this trip — I don’t really want Eric there per se, I want what Eric , as my partner, represents to me…

The truth is, this isn’t the first time I have found myself feeling like I need to wait for Eric before the fun and fulfillment can really start. Early in our marriage, when he worked the most insane hours, I would come home from my own job and wait. I felt like my rest, my relaxation, ‘my time’ didn’t really start until Eric was there to share it with me. Over time, I grew tired of waiting and I started hobbies and activities I could enjoy for myself.  But the pattern, the deeper belief, is clearly still there — life, experiences, activities aren’t really meaningful without my partner there. Partner = essential ingredient in my happiness.

I have poured all this meaning into Eric and he isn’t here. My imagination, my views of partnership and of fulfillment have created my own loneliness and dissatisfaction on this trip. Of course, Eric will be home in a few days. All this will be behind me soon enough. And yet… I can’t help being haunted by the real peril of my view: One of these days, Eric will die. Or I will die. The two of us will leave each other. What happens then? What misery have I set myself up for? Will I find a new life, a new person to pour my partner meaning into? If so, how will I ever break free?