For the first time in my dating history, I walked through my door, set my purse down on my bedroom floor, sat down on my bed, and just sat. I didn’t have a ridiculous grin on my face. I didn’t have butterflies ransacking my stomach. Instead, I grabbed my planner to check the time I’m scheduled to work tomorrow morning, and proceeded to my kitchen to grab a glass of water.
I’ve been really thirsty all night long for some reason. Dehydration, probably.
On top of that, I just want to pull my contacts out of my eyes and settle into the couch for a few episodes of The Office (a new season has been put on Netflix so I can catch up on another new season and get my Dwight fix.)
What is wrong with me? I should be jumping out of my skin with this one. It’s not that it was a horrible date. In fact, it was a really great date. We were out and about several beaches with his dog. I can’t tell you how much I love and miss my dog. Leaving my dog behind once again when I left home this past weekend broke a small piece of my heart, like it always does.
Since my last dog, I’m reminded that every time I leave home, I might not come home to my dog again. Rest in peace Titan. I miss you so much, buddy. Even when you chewed on my barn rubbers if I forgot to put them up on the porch railing over night. I still miss you, my sweet little puppy.
I got to be outdoors. I got to jump from rock to rock on the shore like I was a crazy woman, like I was a kid playing on the rock pile. Skipping rocks, playing fetch with his dog, and sitting with my feet dangling in the cool water while talking to my date. It was gorgeous out, and I had a cute guy sitting next to me.
Then, we kept driving up the shoreline because there were a few places he wanted to show me because I had mentioned on previous dates I had never been to these places. So, basically a mini road trip.
After that, we didn’t turn off on the road we should have to return to his place. Instead, we kept going straight and I asked him what we were doing. We were going to pick up pizza from his favorite pizza place in town.
What more could I ask for?
It continued to be a pretty wonderful afternoon while we watched Family Guy, Wipe-Out, and talked about new movies coming out we both really want to see. Savages, Brave, The Dark Knight Rises, and a whole handful of others. It really was a sweet afternoon, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Then, why when I come home from said date, do I sit down on my bed and wonder why I feel like nothing happened between us? Like, there was no spark or something? He did kiss me good night, and we have tentative plans for tomorrow evening/this weekend…so it went well. Right?
Then, why do I feel this way?
I’ve been finding myself in a funk a lot as the week has progressed. It may be a small depression after my party-throwing this past weekend. I was looking forward to the Bachelorette Party for so long, now that it’s over, I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. My main duties as the Maid of Honor are half over. A huge part of it is throwing these two parties for the bride. Until the big Game Day, I simply help her with whatever preparations she needs help with. Then, on the wedding day itself, I sort of run the show and make sure everything behind the scenes is running smoothly so the bride and groom don’t have to worry about anything but getting their vows right.
“The last hundred years of my life have been filled with new things.”
It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m not 100 years old, or ever over 100 years of age. But, in the years I have been blessed to walk on this earth and to have lived through the experiences I have experienced, it’s a beautiful thing. Lillian Postman, a woman checking in at 108 years old, probably knows a thing or two about life that I would love to hear.
I wonder if she was married…
With dating and life eternal with that one special someone locked in my brain at this moment while watching The Office, I am reminded how freaking cute Pam and Jim are on this show. Why can’t I have a romance story like that? Why can’t I find a Big Girl Job, meet the coworker who will become my best friend and confidante, let alone the love of my life, go through a big messy ordeal, then finally have him propose to me so we’ll live happily ever after in our suburban home with our 3 kids, our Mini Cooper, our dog, and a small screened in porch where we have brunch every Saturday and Sunday morning (where he does the cooking and I have the time off away from the kitchen.)
Why can’t I have that? Perhaps I will in my future, but since I don’t know if I will ever have that. I’ll beat myself to the ground wondering.
I do. More often than I would care to admit.
I need to find myself a hobby. One that requires discipline and focus. Maybe I should take up meditating in one of the places I was introduced to this evening, and really take my study of the Jedi arts far more seriously than I have been thus far. It’s one of those things where some days it’s pretty hard-core, and others I forget to think a Jedi-ist thought.
I’m in a funk, people. I need to find my way out of this.