The Single Life

three months ago i blogged that my two-year relationship ended and i’m again a single woman. it went something like, “we broke up. the end.” i didn’t feel like talking about it much then and i still don’t. perhaps i’ve finally learned enough to know better than to be consumed by the melodramatic sadness a breakup brings, or maybe the fact that i saw it coming this time cushioned the fall.

whatever the reason, i’ve been surprisingly at peace with singledom. i have zero desire to jump into anything serious anytime soon. it’s been liberating not to be waiting on anyone’s call or dealing with the stress that comes from entangling my personal well-being with someone else’s. i cannot remember the last time i found myself in this enviable position, where my heart is neither swelling nor aching.

and i like it. life is so calm lately, so full of the simple pleasures — the smelling of the roses, the easy like sunday morning. my emotions look like clear blue skies. and the thought of anything coming in to disrupt this rare internal equilibrium and my happy home life with the pups is repulsive to me. for now.

for now.

i know me and y’all likely also know that time and restlessness will create an itch that only a ravishing man can scratch. and given my history i’m sure he’ll be tall and dark-haired and wrong for me. and i’ll blog about it with a conclusion that will go something like, “we broke up. the end.”

there are times nowadays when i’ve felt that tug. it always arrives with the witching hour, around the twilight, after i’ve finished my work for the day, have had my dinner, read my book, cleaned my house and catered to the dogs. then will follow a moment of stillness when i look around, largely pleased with what i see: the safety and stability, abundance and comfort, and the unyielding warmth from the cuties. it'll absorb me and evoke a wide smile.

then something will bubble up, as much as i’d like to deny it, the feeling will rise up and wash over the moment — the desire to share it all, to sit on the couch with someone who’ll hold my hand while we watch TV.

for now it’s just a flash that disappears as quickly as it comes, but i know it will grow into a primal need as it has before, with the maddening loneliness that grows with it. i’m not there yet, and i sense i still have a ways to go. but when i do get there, i hope i’ll have the fortitude to bypass the hunt altogether and allow things to happen organically.