I’m sure many of you know the Carly Rae Jepsen song, “Call Me Maybe”. And in it there’s a line, “Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad….” I think I finally understand how it’s possible to miss someone you never met. Most days I have a moment or two or three of loneliness and shrug it off and keep going. It’s events, holidays, and occasions that are harder.
My birthday never had that special feel – not for lack of trying on my family’s part. But I don’t really remember the young ones and the ones that stick in my head are more the high school and beyond. Well, ok junior high and beyond. Anyway, it wasn’t that my family didn’t do a big meal or that they didn’t buy me presents. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, because they did and it was all nice and thoughtful and appreciated. But every year when I blew out those candles I had the same wish. For 30+ years now (that’s the closest your getting to an age….lol), I’ve wished for God to bring me a soul mate, someone special to spend my life with. And maybe it’s not fair to wish that anymore, maybe it never was. First off, yes, I know that wishing doesn’t make it so and I know there’s no power in a birthday candle, but hey, can’t blame a girl for trying.
Even when I had a boyfriend it seemed we were always on the outs for my birthday. I never once really celebrated a birthday with someone who didn’t have to love me. When I was younger, I dreamed about what it might be like. I yearned to have a special day with someone who would look in my eyes and see me as their biggest gift and treasure.
Honestly, I’ve lost faith that my wish will come true, despite occasional efforts to the contrary. My friends asked what I was doing for my birthday and I prefer to try and treat it like any other day, because the moment I start to think it is something to be honored or celebrated, I start to think of how I might want to do that, with who, etc. Then I feel lonely. I feel as though I’ve lost something, something I never quite had to lose.
I think sometimes I sound ungrateful. I have a good life. I have a job I love, for the first time in awhile, with a few kinks. I am good at what I do and proud of what I’ve done. I have an awesome niece and nephew that I get my mom fix with. I have parents who love me and who continually try to make my life better. I have a close family, which is good and bad. I have friends, though most are married with children now and I don’t often get to see. I have a stable life. I have a great home. I’m not needing for things or hurting or hungry or cold. What right do I have to ask for more?
Logically, I get it. Then I look around at the couples on the street. I can’t help but be envious of the connection they have and of what that could mean. I have pictures in my head in rich color of what I envisioned my later life to be. I can see my mate (from the back anyway) sitting with me holding my hand as we age. For a moment, I feel a sense of peace, like the image is real; it is so strong. My biggest fear in life has always been winding up alone and dying alone.
You get to be good at being alone after awhile. There’s pluses to it. I can cook whatever I want for dinner – ice cream, pasta, cereal, soup, etc. I can choose not to eat. I can eat at 11PM. I can do the laundry, but leave it in the dryer. I can hang a towel up messy. I can leave the TV on when I go in another room and know my channel won’t be changed. I know the toilet seat won’t be up when it shouldn’t. I know I can go to sleep when I want. etc etc…
On the other hand, there’s no one to nudge me in the morning when it’s cold outside and still dark and help me get out of bed to start my day. There’s no one to make me dinner when I get home late from work. There’s no one to kiss me when I’m excited or hold me when I’m sad or comfort me when I need comforting. There’s no one to laugh with or smile with, cry with, or simply be with in silence. There’s no one to help when the work seems too much. There’s no one to just shake sense into me when I get overwhelmed. There’s no one to balance me when my scales get rocked.
I refuse to settle for someone I’m not in love with. I want that meaningful connection with someone. Honestly, maybe it’s not possible, but I had a glimpse of what it could be once. I met someone once that I felt a true deep connection with, that I could have loved, that I think could have been a soul mate of mine in another life, in another place, in another time. But in this life, it wasn’t meant to be.
People think I’m critical or picky, but when you reach a certain age, you dreamed a dream so long, if the dream can’t be, than why shatter it for something that pales in comparison. I’m not looking for Mr. Perfect as many seem to think. Far from it in fact. I’m looking for Mr. Right-for-Me. And he’s hiding under a rock…..somewhere far far away….and I guess I may never know.
I have married friends that make me awfully uncomfortable sometimes. They tell me they think things about me or well, that’s enough. A compliment is fine, but some take it too far. I think they say it because they think it will help me be less lonely, but it’s just creepy and inappropriate on all accounts. Then I start to think why is it I’m attracting taken men, but I can’t find a decent single one anywhere. If only I knew I suppose….
well I’m off to blow out another candle, wish another wish…there should be something to say for persistence right? 🙂 Goodnight my Mr. Right-For-Me, wherever you are! Until someday…..I hope….