It’s March, and I have been single for one year and five months.
Some days, this feels like an achievement… a grand exercise in individualism and independence in which I have excelled. Almost a year and a half with no significant other and a slow increase in my culinary skills. I’ve had time to explore new hobbies and to cultivate good friendships, to spend time with my family and to travel alone to see my friends. I get to keep a clean house with the toilet seats down and if I want to, I can sleep with all of the pillows.
Other days, I feel lonely.
These are usually the days where my head is too full of its own thoughts and when I say out loud that my day starts with Miss Kitty and I eating breakfast together. *sigh* <insert lonely spinster cat lady joke here> A very small speck of desolation rises to the surface when I say that out loud… That speck isn’t there when I’m eating my cereal, watching my black furkid gobble up breakfast and then come sit beside me on the bed, happy to finally be able to clean her feet because eatin’-time means no-hood-time. She usually is the first thing to bring a smile to my face in the morning. No, that speck only ignites when I say it out loud, usually to a friend who is not single. You see, I don’t have many single friends; they’re either already married, or getting married, or having babies. And I don’t care who you are, but being a single girl in the midst of a sea of happy couples doesn’t always lend your mood toward a celebration of your singledom.
Sometimes you are reminded of what you’re glad to not have to deal with: sharing closets, choosing paint colors, not having a car because you carpooled, arguments over the stupid crap and reminding him to pick up his shoes and not to scratch the good frying pan.
Other times, you are faced with what you’re missing out on: someone to have dinner ready when you get home from the gym, someone to talk to about anything, someone to give you a hug in the morning or to put his hand on your back to steer you through a crowd, someone to curl up on the couch with and to become your partner in a variety of endeavors.
I don’t want to be in a relationship again so badly that I start to go looking for one, because when you’re actively looking for someone I don’t think that you pay enough attention to whether the relationship will be good or bad. You’re concentrating on how much you’ve missed this or how good it is to say “we” again. Then you start the relationship and you start to think in terms of what would make him happy instead of what would make ME happy. Next thing you know you’re fighting to keep someone you’re not even sure you really want because he represents the something (a relationship) that you now need. Been there, done that. I brought home the souvenirs and would like to avoid picking up more of that junk in the future!
I’d rather be okay with just being me and living my life… and if someone amazing comes along who happens to fit into that picture, then great! I’ll break out the camping gear, the movie night DVDs and my nice underwear. I’ll make some room on the couch, make him dinner and try to wait a while before letting him see me first thing in the morning, eating Cheerios with my cat.
But if I did want to start looking, my man-wish-list might look something like this:
Especially the part about the passport/hiking boots. And the part about inventing the kiss. Mmmmm.
[Card by Local Wisdom, firstname.lastname@example.org. Purchased at Harvest Moon in Floyd, Va.]