Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Singled Out

You guys, before I met Kadin--at age 35--I was hopelessly single. Most of my friends were married with children. I was the bridesmaid, never the bride; the auntie, never the mom. I dated a gazillion weirdos, who said they wanted what I wanted, but really just wanted a piece of ass. I went out with too many men that I had either nothing or too much in common with in hopes that something would eventually click. It never did.

I'd resigned myself to being alone and perhaps adopting a child. Kadin came along just after this resignation and though I was immediately attracted to him mentally and physically, I didn't let him in for nine months. I'd gotten used to being alone, had become mistrustful and was told by the friend who introduced us, that he was "a player." The same friend told Kadin that I was jaded. I probably was. My mother died and I was dumped by some loser musician who I'd inflated in my mind and who convinced me we were in love until he got bored and things suddenly seemed "too intense." My heart was broken and I was too sad to even think about letting anyone near it again.

I cracked the door and agreed to spend time with Kadin as friends. After some months, friendship turned into something else. And I let it because I'd taken the time to know that he was the farthest thing from a player and the closest thing to imperfectly perfect for me. Our baggage matched. He liked me as I was instead of as someone he'd imagined. We dated for a year and a half before we married; and Sabine was conceived about one month after that. I'm thirty nine years old now and we're attempting to have another child, who will hopefully be born not long after I turn forty.

I think about all of the years I spent watching friends pair up or get married and have children or remain a twosome. I think about how hollow and lonely that felt even though I was truly happy for them. Everyone else was seemingly with someone else. When I traveled or experienced something grand, sometimes it felt less grand because there was no one to elbow or laugh or drop my jaw with.

After Kadin and I were solidly together, he admitted he would sometimes spend Sundays alone in his apartment sleeping when he wasn't tired because he was lonely. And I admitted that I sometimes spent entire weekends doing the same thing. My father did this after my mother died. When you're this lonely, there's sometimes no difference between daytime and nighttime; the hours run together.

I've friends and family, who are alone in the way I was. I'm relaying my experience to say I know what it feels like so maybe, even for a minute, they will feel a little less alone. And maybe, too, they won't give up even though they've given up. Because I think things really do happen when you stop looking; when you're okay with just you; and when you give something time or someone a chance to show you who they really are. There are a million wrong people out there and none of them belong with you. It's not about being picked or picking. It's about finding what seems like your needle in the haystack. And sometimes, that takes what feels like far too long.

Images via Observando


Cassy said...

Thanks for sharing your story. I think many of us have been fooled by the guys that claim to want what we want, but they only want sex. It's difficult to be both open and guarded at the same time. I'm glad that you've found so much happiness.

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful, beautiful post.

Miss A said...

Hope! Yes. You are such a wise soul!


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