Safe Harbors in the Roaring Forties

I went out last Tuesday night with two very good friends, women i've known for 30 years. We have, each of us, in the past few years, sailed some pretty rocky waters; One has had a divorce and the death of her father; the other is losing her mother now and is in the process of a divorce. It caused me to think about the nature of love, trust, and partnership. I am absolutely blessed by my friends, and the number of people who have reached that space between friend and family. I am more and more aware, though, that I have a void in my life, one that used to be filled, perfectly or imperfectly (or both, depending on the day), by Donna. Boyo is at camp, and so it is just me and the one cat we have left (the other seemed to have been freaked out by the move, and hasn't been seen lately). I have fantasies of this person or that person filling that void, and that is what they remain; fantasies. The truth is, at this age, everyone has their lives well anchored somewhere, with kids and job and such, and I am no different. One of these two friends says I need to start doing dating sites, to meet someone new, who isn't an old friend or a clergy colleague. Sounds like it would be fun, but I'm not convinced it would lead to more, because those two groups get me the best, either because they've known me since before I was the me I am now, and helped me get to this place, or they get what I do and its' unique demands. I looked at the picture that we had taken of ourselves that night, and I saw there a lot of pain, but beauty too. A beauty born of strength and purpose, a beauty born of physical limits. I saw two women who had parents that loved each other deeply, and were marked by that love, and now, in the Roaring Forties of our lives, they deeply want the same type of relationship their parents had. They want partners they can trust, that they can be sure of, that they can have fun with, that they can trust their kids with, that they can live deeply with, not just exist with. They want someone who fits, who has "baggage that matches theirs", to borrow a lyric. So do I. and I just feel that it's a want that can't be filled with a dating site, or fun times with people you've just met. I really think it can only be filled with someone else who have been through the same wars, the same upbringing, the same outlook.

I don't want to fight, adjust, be patient with, or become someone new. I don't want them to, either. I want, to continue the Clipper Ship metaphor, safe harbor. I want Avalon. I want someone like these two.