Does every woman know how it feels to be the one looking at him while he’s looking at her? This isn’t a discussion of a point-in-time, but rather akin to survival – like breathing – that is so inherent in one’s existence. You mechanically go through the motions of socializations, career advancements, loving friendships, laughter and happiness; yet behind the veneer you can’t stop yourself from wondering when he will avail himself to you because you are so certain that he will. You find yourself looking around in almost every public situation wondering if you will run into him, and if you do, if he will be attracted to you. The lie within is always tainted by the reality that you know that you are not a consideration in his future. Never have been, for he is always longing for someone else. This is the beign of my existence; that while they always liked me, they never, ever loved me nearly enough to want me to stay.
I admit that my hopes and my dreams are girlish notions. I believe that God has a perfect man for me; a best friend, a partner, and a perfect lover. That person will be more than what I, in my finite wisdom, could have ever idealized. At the perfect age of 44, I struggle with concerns of the thoughts that he may never enter my life. Am I one of those women who never connect on a spiritual level with another? Would that be so bad? There are plenty of my contemporaries who are not married, many of whom do not feel the need; the most notable is Oprah, the queen of the world.
I have deleted his number from my phone so many times. While I have had too many horrifying drunk dialing episodes, my sober self knows that enough is enough. Stop thinking of him, I have to consciously remind myself. The problem is that I’m so used to thinking of someone all of the time even if he doesn’t care about me.
Thinking about him makes me feel like I have something to strive for. I find myself dressing to leave the house wondering if he would think I’m beautiful if I happen to run into him yet knowing that the probability of encountering into him when I look like shit is more likely. When I do something great, I wish that he knew so that he would be proud of me.
My irrational self who has no dignity wonders if he would like to run into me as well. Does he ever think of me? Does he wonder how I’m doing? Does he wish that he was free to see me? Does he miss me? I have never understood how two people could have such strong chemistry and share great laughter, but this woman, who seemingly makes him so miserable, is the one who possesses his heart? Let him go, I know. It’s ridiculous to spend one minute thinking of the man who doesn’t reciprocate. I deserve at least that much.
A very wise friend told me what I already knew, that I am the person who looks at every potential relationship like a book. I immediately jump to the last page and decide on whether or not I would like to read that book. We’ve all heard that before. What I have never heard was that while the book may end badly, the story itself could be great. By the same token, while the book may end well, the story could be awful.
Ironically enough, both the object of my affection and I have opened the book and read the same last page. We both know that the end of the story will result in a parting of the ways. While he would rather not read the book of me, I am all about savoring each and every delicious chapter.
I understand that my friend did not mean for me to interpret his message in an application of him, therefore, I have officially decided that I am open for business. I am willing to say “Yes” when all I want to do is to say “No” to the men that ask me out…within reason of course. I am not the only woman who believes that if I sat somewhere by myself I could attract the grossest man there, but I bet I could win the contest. Be that as it may, I am not deterred and will continue my search.
I know that keeping in touch with him or seeing him or keeping him abreast of my whereabouts will not make him want me more. I know that if he doesn’t want me he’s not worth the energy of my thoughts. I am a lovable person just as I am and I deserve a man who makes me his priority. I know all of this in my head. Perhaps this obsession I have is because I need something to fill my bored and seemingly empty heart. I need love just like anyone else and long for it in such a way that my missing it somehow seems to justify this behavior. I don’t necessarily view this mentality as unhealthy because I know how true emotional angst feels. In your forties, you realize that some things are not worth agonizing over. Deaths, divorce – hell, even world events – are enough to cry over. A boy who isn’t interested simply isn’t that big of a deal.
At my age, it gets harder and harder to convince myself that I am happy not being in a relationship. It seems so contrary as a woman of today who has a career, is confident and independent to admit that I have the same romantic dreams as most women…I would like to get married someday. About ten years ago I tried online dating only to be frustrated with the process of what felt like working through a barrage of interviews when all I wanted to do was date and have fun doing it. From that point on, while online dating is fine for some, I decided that I will only date organically. I still believe in the idea that we can spot that next special someone from across the room. I have chosen to decide upon whether or not I would like to see a man based upon chemistry, not a published profile. I like the “cat-and-mouse” game…the “dance”, if you will. I believe in love at first sight. I have faith in the belief that when I meet “The One” we will both know. I will wait for long stretches of time until I find that man, who comes few and far between, who truly trips my trigger.
Suffice it to say, I am not afraid of being alone, for I know how to be single. I’m blessed to know in my heart that I’ve truly never been alone. I have a circle of friends who love and believe in me, and who support me and include me in their lives. The husbands of my friends are offered up to me as men who will give me the guy’s point of view, by my drinks, and make sure that I’m as comfortable as their female counterparts. I rather enjoy my own company over that of others in many cases, which means that I will never be stuck in a bad relationship simply because I am afraid of being without. Some things are just not worth my time. Because of this, I have spent much of my adult life not being in a relationship. For this reason I oftentimes feel like I am unrelatable to most. I have gone to more weddings, parties, events, and other gatherings “stag” more often than I care to say. In fact, when I do have a date, its almost a spectacle placed on display for public consumption. I’m quite certain that I am the subject of speculation as well as pity, but not to be deterred, I am over letting it get the best of me.
I do worry that as I get older I will become less flexible, more uncompromising, and overall less likable. I know myself with all of my flaws. While when I first meet someone I do try to show him my best self, but in the end I am apologetically Me.
I definitely have a type. He is generally lean and athletic, fair skinned with brown to reddish hair. He is likely to have a professional career and be a leader in his profession. To most, he is considered to be a nice guy. He will never stop a room with his physical appeal, but at the end of the day, despite his nerdy nature he becomes very sought after. He is always a great catch. In short, he’s the man who was the boy in high school you would have dated rather than pining after the captain of the football team.
I admit that my hopes and my dreams are girlish notions. I believe that God has a perfect man for me; a best friend, a partner, and a perfect lover. That person will be more than what I, in my finite wisdom, could have ever idealized. At the perfect age of 44, I struggle with concerns of the thoughts that he may never enter my life. Am I one of those women who never connect on a spiritual level with another? Would that be so bad? There are plenty of my contemporaries who are not married, many of whom do not feel the need; the most notable is Oprah, the queen of the world.
I have deleted his number from my phone so many times. While I have had too many horrifying drunk dialing episodes, my sober self knows that enough is enough. Stop thinking of him, I have to consciously remind myself. The problem is that I’m so used to thinking of someone all of the time even if he doesn’t care about me.
Thinking about him makes me feel like I have something to strive for. I find myself dressing to leave the house wondering if he would think I’m beautiful if I happen to run into him yet knowing that the probability of encountering into him when I look like shit is more likely. When I do something great, I wish that he knew so that he would be proud of me.
A very wise friend told me what I already knew, that I am the person who looks at every potential relationship like a book. I immediately jump to the last page and decide on whether or not I would like to read that book. We’ve all heard that before. What I have never heard was that while the book may end badly, the story itself could be great. By the same token, while the book may end well, the story could be awful.
Ironically enough, both the object of my affection and I have opened the book and read the same last page. We both know that the end of the story will result in a parting of the ways. While he would rather not read the book of me, I am all about savoring each and every delicious chapter.
I understand that my friend did not mean for me to interpret his message in an application of him, therefore, I have officially decided that I am open for business. I am willing to say “Yes” when all I want to do is to say “No” to the men that ask me out…within reason of course. I am not the only woman who believes that if I sat somewhere by myself I could attract the grossest man there, but I bet I could win the contest. Be that as it may, I am not deterred and will continue my search.
I know that keeping in touch with him or seeing him or keeping him abreast of my whereabouts will not make him want me more. I know that if he doesn’t want me he’s not worth the energy of my thoughts. I am a lovable person just as I am and I deserve a man who makes me his priority. I know all of this in my head. Perhaps this obsession I have is because I need something to fill my bored and seemingly empty heart. I need love just like anyone else and long for it in such a way that my missing it somehow seems to justify this behavior. I don’t necessarily view this mentality as unhealthy because I know how true emotional angst feels. In your forties, you realize that some things are not worth agonizing over. Deaths, divorce – hell, even world events – are enough to cry over. A boy who isn’t interested simply isn’t that big of a deal.
At my age, it gets harder and harder to convince myself that I am happy not being in a relationship. It seems so contrary as a woman of today who has a career, is confident and independent to admit that I have the same romantic dreams as most women…I would like to get married someday. About ten years ago I tried online dating only to be frustrated with the process of what felt like working through a barrage of interviews when all I wanted to do was date and have fun doing it. From that point on, while online dating is fine for some, I decided that I will only date organically. I still believe in the idea that we can spot that next special someone from across the room. I have chosen to decide upon whether or not I would like to see a man based upon chemistry, not a published profile. I like the “cat-and-mouse” game…the “dance”, if you will. I believe in love at first sight. I have faith in the belief that when I meet “The One” we will both know. I will wait for long stretches of time until I find that man, who comes few and far between, who truly trips my trigger.
Suffice it to say, I am not afraid of being alone, for I know how to be single. I’m blessed to know in my heart that I’ve truly never been alone. I have a circle of friends who love and believe in me, and who support me and include me in their lives. The husbands of my friends are offered up to me as men who will give me the guy’s point of view, by my drinks, and make sure that I’m as comfortable as their female counterparts. I rather enjoy my own company over that of others in many cases, which means that I will never be stuck in a bad relationship simply because I am afraid of being without. Some things are just not worth my time. Because of this, I have spent much of my adult life not being in a relationship. For this reason I oftentimes feel like I am unrelatable to most. I have gone to more weddings, parties, events, and other gatherings “stag” more often than I care to say. In fact, when I do have a date, its almost a spectacle placed on display for public consumption. I’m quite certain that I am the subject of speculation as well as pity, but not to be deterred, I am over letting it get the best of me.
I do worry that as I get older I will become less flexible, more uncompromising, and overall less likable. I know myself with all of my flaws. While when I first meet someone I do try to show him my best self, but in the end I am apologetically Me.
I definitely have a type. He is generally lean and athletic, fair skinned with brown to reddish hair. He is likely to have a professional career and be a leader in his profession. To most, he is considered to be a nice guy. He will never stop a room with his physical appeal, but at the end of the day, despite his nerdy nature he becomes very sought after. He is always a great catch. In short, he’s the man who was the boy in high school you would have dated rather than pining after the captain of the football team.
