Just spent an hour on the phone commiserating with the other half of LoriSquared. We have so much in common besides our name. The excessive height. The sarcasm. The ambition. The sad singleness.
But, unlike me, she still possesses hope. She's still out there, going on tons of dates in the off-chance that the next one might be the right one. She still believes in love.
And I guess I believe in love, too. I just think it's elusive.
You can't be single for nearly four decades without developing a hatred for the inevitable questions about your sexual orientation, standards, or childbirth goals. I, for one, am sick of it.
Because, really, are my standards excessively high because I'd like a man who doesn't collect figurines? Because I don't need a man to protect me or pay my bills? If I say "no" to a date with a guy who's been married four times and beaten all of of his wives, does that really make me impossible to please?
But I guess we're all conditioned to question those who don't adhere to society's expectations. Just two days ago I had lunch with a pal who tried to set me up with Mr. Golf Injury. Turns out he's never been married. My first thought: "What's wrong with him?"
Eeek! What's wrong with me? Why do I automatically assume he's inherently flawed because he's never said "I do?" Maybe he, like me, never intended to still be sleeping alone. But life has a funny way of being impossible to predict.
And, just in case you're wondering, I don't have cats, I still like boys, and I'm not that picky. It's a dating jungle out there and I forgot my bug spray, so I'm hanging out in the tent for awhile. Maybe that makes me lazy or cynical or realistic, but I'm tired. In the meantime, if you find Mr. Wonderful wondering the streets of NWA, send him my way. But not if he's wondering what's wrong with me.
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3 comments:
Mister golf injury has had a girlfriend for 2 years...
I know, I know. And that makes him 14 times more successful at relationships than me. Seriously, didn't mean it as an insult. :-)
There is nothing wrong with you. And, as we have learned from a ton of our married folk, the grass is not always greener on the other side. Plus, when the grass on THAT side is dead, brown, and needing a strong dose of pesticides, it requires a whole bunch of ugly things like lawyers, courts, and legal negotiations along with a lot of wasted dough. You are a cool chic - revel in the fact that you are you.
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