When you start a blog that is all about dating, you hope that it is successful. You hope it takes off and makes it's way to the shelves of Barnes and Noble with a picture of a girl on the cover looking off into the distance with a pen in her hand and a beautiful journal at her finger tips. You envision yourself on stage at the Ellen show waving to hundreds of audience members while they give you a standing ovation. You have practiced your entire interview with Matt Lauer and even imagined who will play you in the movie. Your imagination goes to what color you would wear on the red carpet when your book makes it's way to a Oscar nominated film where a unknown plain jane actress is thrown into stardom after playing the role of you!!
So, you sit at your little desk and write. You write about all your experiences and all the heartache. You look and search and hope that every step you take brings you to the man you are supposed to be with. You listen to the endless amount of advice that people give you. You smile your best smile when you go out with your other single friends only to find that you are the one in the corner holding their purses while they get asked to dance. You try and remove the invisibility cloak that has been on your shoulders for years and wonder what you need to do to get noticed.
Then you meet someone. Someone that throws you so off balance that you are not sure where your head is. You fall so deeply in love that you cannot imagine a day without him and your vocabulary changes from "me" and "I" to "us" and "we" . You make Christmas cards together. You become that couple that everyone thinks is perfect. You post only photos of the good times, the times that made you believe in your relationship again. Your comments to your friends are only about what they need to hear, only what makes them smile and green with envy about your relationship. People are in love with your relationship and you give them what they want. Like a drug addict I feel a high off of everyone's approval. I document every moment that is blissful and amazing. Since I am a writer, I am able to make the moments that aren't so blissful....well, ...amazing.
Eventually, after an eternity of thought, you find yourself back in the spot where it all began. Alone, in front of your computer, drink close by, the soft music of your favorite pandora station in the back ground. You sit back and look at your blank screen and say out loud..."I know..I know...I left you alone for far too long. I'm sorry, ok?" You sit in front of your computer and try and think of a way to let out all the things you have held inside for the last four years. You try and find your voice as you purse your lips together and tap your fingers on the table. The drink next to you glistening with the promise of strength that you have been looking for. "If I just take a couple of sips, the words will come out." You set your fingers on the keyboard, finger tips on the correct keys and you just....wait. Wait for something to come out that makes sense. Wait for the words to come out in this onslaught of emotion because if you start then the story will just follow...right?
Wrong.
Nothing comes out.
Not a thing.
And you are reminded of all the amazing stories you told. They echo in your head like cheers at a basketball game. You remember the feeling of accomplishment after you hit "post" and the wonderful supportive things people said to you.
But now, you are just staring at a blank page, wondering what comes next.
"Do I really need to start over again? I have started over so many times I don't know if I have the willpower to begin again. Do I really want to go back to square one? Dating online, looking for the "one" in a sea of you have got to be kidding me's"
And so here I am. In my fourth month of being single again, I have opened myself up to Online dating once again. Ugh, my therapist is going to be so pissed at me.
The beginning of online dating is much like turning your tv on. You scan through the pictures quickly, "no, no, well....(open profile) No....GOD NO." For about every 30 guys there is one that is a "well,...maybe." And so you message him that you are interested. A combination of some conviluted bull shit of how you really like the pic of him at the concert and how you totally agree with his comment on (insert cliche about dating here). Then you wait. You look at your phone about every 2.3 seconds. Waiting for that little number 1 to show up on the corner of the app, only to find out that a guy named Floyd in his 60's feels you may be his soul mate. This goes on all day. You hope, you wait you think....."this has got to end someday. Someday, I will meet someone and he will be the one."
On a Friday night, you are all ready to go out. You have bought a new outfit, touched up your make up, been on cloud 8.5 all day because you have a date, then you get that text message. You know, the one that says "I can't make it tonight, too tired." Like a contestant on American Idol that has just been told they will NOT be going to Hollywood you put your head in your hands and realize that you have really come back to the beginning.
And there you are, like the one kid that did not get invited to the party, you hang your head and think, "this is it. I am back to the beginning. Waiting for my happiness to be determined by whether or not he picks me. "
I am angry at myself for being disappointed. That moment of hope over comes you when they ask you out. That moment where you think, maybe this is the one. Maybe this guy will be the one that makes me go "oh, let me tell you what I used to deal with." But instead, I am sitting on my porch just wondering when I get to be the girl that finds happiness.
There is a small part of me that thinks "you had your chance. We gave you your ex husband and the keeper, that was all you get. You screwed both of those up, we are not giving you another chance. " I know that is not true, but I can't help but think at 40 years old, when does this stop?
My son asked me the other day "why did you divorce my dad?" I looked at him and said "well, your dad and I were supposed to meet so I could have you. Then, he was supposed to go and meet your step mom so they could have your sister. Your dad is supposed to be with her," He looked at me very matter of factly and said "but mom, who are YOU supposed to be with?"
I wish I knew the answer to that. I really do.
Here we go again.
