Currently, it is 10:30am on Christmas morning and I am sitting in my apartment, alone, preparing to write a blog post about love. #situationalirony (yes, there are different types of irony–go look it up).
I thought that I wouldn’t mind being alone for Christmas–and technically, I’m not. I just got back from breakfast with a former student and her mom, I’m have Christmas lunch with my friend and HER mom, and I’m eating dinner with on of the girls I met through football—so pretty much the opposite of alone.
But even with my full schedule, I still feel, well, ALONE. I absolutely love all of my connections that I have made in California, but I nonetheless feel at times like I am sitting on the sidelines and watching people live rather than fully participating in the life that I have envisioned for myself.
Obviously, holidays can suck for single people such as myself simply because of that reason–seemingly every other person is posting adorable pictures with their significant other, or hilarious family moments, or innocent-yet-enviable posts of holiday cheer. Even though I am very happy with nearly everything in my life just the way it is, I still have felt a twinge of “I want that” with nearly every scroll for the past couple of days.
Which, of course, leads me to contemplate WHY. Why is this something that I envy? Why do I feel that rush of impatience?
Especially since I could, with recent events, potentially have that.
This potential comes in the form of a former NFL player who I recently met on Bumble during one of my “lets reinstall this because I’m bored” forays at the car dealership. I have seen him several times over the past couple of weeks, and on paper, he seems perfect: former glamorous career (Superbowl ring and all), great current job, tall, muscular, plays piano, gentleman, world traveler, loves adventures, and on and on. The cherry on top? He is head over heels for me and thinks that I am the hottest, most amazing girl he’s ever dated and can’t wait for any time we spend together.
Or so it SHOULD be. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I am not quite following his headlong charge in Loveland. My girlfriends think I’m crazy, and this whole internal waffling back and forth has caused me to do some serious soul-searching and head-scratching over the past couple of days. Why on EARTH am I not allowing myself to get swept away? What is wrong with me that I can’t be thanking the universe for sending me the man I’ve always wanted?
After a lot of thinking, I’ve realized that it’s “the spark”. The magical, elusive, stereotypical flutters that appear in cartoons as floating hearts and romantic comedies as gigantic smiles and last minute airport chases. In this man, I have everything I would ever want….except, so far, that spark.
I was talking to my friend briefly about it, and she pointed out that I could always grow to love this guy and that my relationship with him would be very safe-and that I want a man who chooses to pursue me. All very well and good.
But there’s a part of me, deep down, that digs in my heels. As much as I want to be pursued and adored, I want it to happen with a guy that I ALSO want to pursue and adore.
In my last relationship, I had a gigantic smile stretched across my face every. single. time I was driving down to see him. The moment I knocked on the door, giant butterflies burst from my chest and flew wildly around from the anticipation of the lock click and hinge creak as the door opened to reveal my favorite person.
And the thing is, on paper, this person was completely wrong for me. Always busy, focused on his own thing, hardly any time to spend with me, made me question his feelings for the first half of our relationship, never paid a dime over his half when we went on ‘dates’, and overall was kind of a douche in several different aspects of our relationship.
And yet….those damn butterflies.
And so, I find myself being pulled in two completely different directions. One side of me is shaking its head that I would even CONSIDER leaving someone so seemingly perfect-because realistically, those butterflies still have time to manifest–the relationship is still quite new. And the other side…the other side is digging in its heels and screaming bloody murder at the thought of settling for anything less than an explosion.
What sucks is, I know that there is no right answer for everyone…there is only the right answer for me. There are several marriages that are built on solid ground where the only sparks that fly are on the Fourth of July. And there are other relationships where you can hardly stand next to the couple because they give off so much heat. Both types seem happy in their own way.
As I approach my 30’s at a seemingly breakneck speed, I feel more and more pressure to chose the path of least resistance. Stay the course. Choose safety. Stay boring.
Yet I’ve always been a stubborn, headstrong, don’t-tell-me-what-the-fuck-to-do type of girl. And I have an inner voice telling me that the path more trodden is just not my path.
Robert Frost tells us that the road less traveled makes all the difference. So many people nod sagely at the Greats when they tell us to be daring, be bold, seize the day! Yet when it comes to actually doing so, throats are cleared, feet shift uncomfortably, and no one actually makes a move.
I refuse to settle for less than the heart pounding, grinning, jump-into-his-arms-and-wrap-my-legs-around-his-waist love. I have to believe I can find that with someone who also offers the other qualities as well. Maybe the guy I’m seeing now will call up some butterflies if I give him a chance. And if at the end of the day I don’t end up finding that? I suppose I’ll have a lot of fun looking.
Merry Christmas, everyone!