It begins again. Although I can’t even begin to comprehend, understand or remember what this feeling used to be like. Or how strange or vulnerable of an admission that this might now be true: This, the feeling of wanting to be with someone; a willingness again to fall in love. I hope it’s not just because I’m sick of the stupid. But, when it comes down to it, perhaps that’s what the willingness is when you purposefully seek the stories.
The first time it hit me, it came by surprise. But I was just a kid. And after that I sought it: Love. I’d decide I was ready and wish and then I’d see him and think: That’s mine. And then there we’d be, three years or five years later, breaking up, taping our hearts back together and moving on.
It takes the time alone to understand that a broken heart isn’t something to regret or resent. It is something to nurture. Something to understand and keep to yourself until you’re prepared enough to potentially have to tape it back together again. Because with love, as in life, there are no guarantees.
I’ve teetered on the edge for a while, I think you recall. But if I remember correctly, this is what it’s like: Not to be seeking a partner, per say, but the idea of being open to it; wanting to receive it. And what a strange thing it is to admit after such a beautiful, weeded and winding road behind.
When some people are single it doesn’t mean they are ready to be in a relationship. Sometimes it takes all of the time alone to understand – and remember – that love isn’t something to be entered into lightly; that it's worth that step that might send you off a cliff and into a cold ocean of shattering hearts. And when you’re nearly 30, it’s all the more heavy. The mistakes hold the weight of history. We are meant to be wiser than children we once were.
How well we know ourselves now is directly reflected in who we choose to spend our time with and declare as our better half. How much we learn that's well worth the time alone to find out who we are, so we can find out what we need in another person. How important it is to know that it is so much lonelier in the wrong relationship than it is in the one with just yourself.
I think it’s hard for people to admit the things they want aloud because if they don’t attain them, then they feel like a failure. But life does what it wants in its own time. It is a strange concept brought up to think that you’re nobody unless somebody loves you; to feel we’re failing unless we’re partnered up. You can't find yourself in the eyes of someone else. Love yourself first should be the concept; define who you are, then find someone who loves that definition.
I think it is important to cherish the moments we have when we have them. I’m single now, but I won’t always be. I want a partner, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for my happiness. In the meantime, I have to remind myself – as many singles tend to forget – that we have forever to be taken, we have but a short time to be just who we are with the wonderful people we’ve chosen as family, until we have found enough happiness to make one of our own.
What a powerful thing to have cultivated a life for oneself. A life so rooted in independence and, yes, selfishness, that when that life is disrupted, we can recognize the threat. The past isn’t haunting: It is a book of beautifully tangled chapters and lessons throughout. And what a lovely sentiment it is to realize that you’ve made a life so pleasant for yourself that anyone who doesn’t enrich it, quite simply isn’t worth the time.
I wouldn’t trade the last five years for anything. My proverbial balls are so much bigger than they used to be. I’m proud of that. My want and willingness playing proof that I am my own security, my stories and everything I wanted to experience and become. It has exceeded my expectations. I have exceeded my expectations.
Now it’s just time to hope I can find a good man who doesn’t whistle from his nose; rather he can find me. I’ll be waiting patiently…still dancing. But I’m here now.