Recap:

I matched with someone I knew from my home town and things were good.

What Happened:

Well, it was good while it lasted.

For the first time in history, I’m not mad at someone after a breakup. No really, if he called me up right now I’d answer. It just came down to how much time we had vs how much time the other needed.

It still sucks. It sucks a lot. I genuinely cared about him, saw a future, and for the first time in at least 5 years, I found someone who I could talk to for 12 hours at a time and never run out of things to say. It was an electric feeling to be seen in a way I had been craving for so long where it was safe to be my weird self. And probably most memorably, it was the first time a man said I was beautiful and I will never forget that moment.

At this point, I know too well the physical sensations of a breakup. Feeling my chest tighten. Pain shooting down my forearms. Just wanting to scream but nothing can come out. Hello darkness, my old friend.

I am exhausted in all senses of the word. There is no greater high than having someone tell you that they knew about this smut since the beginning and still want to date you. There is also no low like not being able to talk to someone or know if you were even missed.

I just want something to stick. I have this stupid fantasy of holding a guy’s hand in a Target. (What? Target means it’s real). It’s such a simple, small thing but it feels like it will never quite be in reach and I hate that it feels impossible. The thought of that, let alone someone wanting a relationship or anything more, feels laughable to me at this point.

A while back I had a conversation with my therapist about just how frustrated I was and how much it sucked being reminded of my singleness with a refrigerator plastered in wedding and baby shower invites. She said to me, “Laura, this may just be your struggle. Maybe when it’s time to have kids you’ll get pregnant on the first try. Maybe you’ll be the one with a marriage you never think twice about. You just never know and it may just be that it’s not your season quite yet.”

So I’m chalking it up to it’s just not my season. I don’t know when it will come but holy fuck, a bitch is ready and waiting.