I get a little weary at times, from spending so much of my time seemingly having my character built.
Or maybe it's just that I need my head examined.
Or my heart.
If you've read my blog for very long, you have to know that I am incurable romantic of epic proportions. In a rather odd sort of way, I think that is what saved me when I found myself suddenly single... ohmygosh, exactly eight years ago today.
(Seriously, I didn't notice the date on the calendar until just this minute.)
I can still remember that moment, when I realized that life had changed for me forever. It's a moment frozen in time, and yet, one that I rarely think of these days.
Time heals they say. I think it just gives you perspective.(And it leaves you with a pretty gnarly scar.)
Still, when you are on the terminally romantic team, you have a little flame of hope, and an ever so tiny sliver of optimism that if you have faith...if you just believe...God's plan will slowly but surely show itself and the sun will come out again.
And it does.
In lots of ways.
I've been beyond blessed to have so many sunny moments to be excited and happy about.
Newly formed friendships with gal-pals for midnight deep talks and commiserating and even falling asleep while one of you is still talking(I will always adore you for those, Anne) and new faces in the family...first there were weddings, and then those babies. (Oh! All of those precious sweet babies!)
All the while going through the sunny moments as time was creeping by, I remained the ever hopeful romantic (truth be told, actually hinging on sappy) and you know, I think that when you're like that...like me...you don't ever feel quite like you unless you are half of a we.
(Does that make any sort of sense to you?)
And as time moved on, there were those kinds of girl-meets-boy sunny moments for me as well. Only things are very different after so much time being on your own, flying solo.
Everybody that has been single for a number of years and is...ehem...a bit more mature, has their own ways of doing things, and coping with stress, or simply the way they manuever through everyday life can be immeasurably different than the way we are used to doing things.
A charming little romantic tablescape at the cozy kitchen counter, complete with votive candles to accompany their favorite comfort food for supper after they've had an unuually rough day might be a sure-fire-solution for a love-is-all-there-is type like myself, but not even be noticed by a used-to-eating-by-the-mood-lighting-cast-from-the-big-screen-tv-beau, let alone, making them feel oh-so-loved and-cared-for.
Aparently, some days even a pretty tablescape doesn't make life pretty. Or even a little easier to get through.
(Nor will a homemade three-cheese grilled cheese on sourdough with a side of tomato soup)
(I did not realize that.)
I'm not at all confident that I will fully master any all of this complcated romance (or lack there of) stuff out, but I can guarantee you, I am still getting my character built.