A love theme

“We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.”  ~Author Unknown

Right after Christmas I was in bed ready for slumber when my best friend, LB,  called me. She never calls me and I never call her. We communicate enough of course but it’s 2010: I text her and she emails me back. I haven’t heard her voice since April of 2009. So when she called my hear immediately stopped because she must be dying. Or pregnant. Or both. Though it was neither; she was engaged. My heart did that rapid fire swelling thing and made its way to the base of my throat. I swallowed hard to keep those feelings at bay and made her repeat herself. “You’re what?”

“I’m engaged!”

“Wait…what?”

“I am engaged”, she replied with a giggle.

I replied with a few sniffles and tears out of the corners of my eyes because some people should be engaged. You see these couples together and you know in your heart of hearts that they one day will be affianced. It isn’t that it *will* happen but that it *should* happen.

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In February I was at BWI airport fussing with my phone after a long flight. When I finally got the thing on I had messages galore but there was one message I was looking for in particular. One from a boy. Nothing serious or anything that I was all that interested in but enough to give me that flutter. You know the one. Where you know that someone is just thinking of you. It never worked out but while at the airport I did not receive a text from this man but from my cousin. It was simple grainy photo the only part of it that I could make out was a large shiny looking object. I knew. I just knew.

The second text message was the announcement of an engagement and once again the proper response was for tears. I am not a terribly emotional person especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Relationships don’t make me ooey-gooey. I have never once cried during a Hallmark commercial.

But I couldn’t help myself. My heart does feel.

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Having experienced the boundless emotions of being absolutely, head over heels in love with someone and the subsequent torture of falling out of love and all of the messiness surrounding it, I have been rather ‘meh’. I’ve become fantastic at doing my own thing. I am an excellent solo diner and movie goer. I can put together furniture and have a design aesthetic that effectively combines the bright and the bold with the neutral. I have certain aspects of my life down pat and others…well…I’m learning. I didn’t enjoy the horrific clean up of a relationship. In fact that process reminded me of a recent event where the cat puked wet food and I had run out of paper towels and so I had to use kleenex. Horrible. Messy. And no amount of hand-washing gets it off.

So there is that. I am thinking out loud here so forgive me but that messiness is part of the whole love thing, no? And I don’t like it. I don’t like certain aspects of a lot of things. But it still keeps me from dipping a big toe into the water. And other times I feel like I don’t deserve to be with anyone. Isn’t that sad? It’s those oft internalized feelings of inadequacy. That I am not good enough so why would anyone in their right mind want to be with me? And yet….I don’t know. I’ve never been a good dater. It was never casual because I always put too much thought into it or just didn’t care at all. On more than one occasion it has been pointed out to me with grand flourish that perhaps if I actually spoke to people I would learn that there are many interested parties. In fact there are often interested parties and my exact reaction is this, “That’s nice. What’s new on Netflix?!”

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During my best friend’s engagement party this past weekend there were tears during the toast. I put a comforting hand on the bride-to-be’s mother’s shoulder and she gave me a squeeze. I met the groom-to-be’s father who gushed about his marriage and his relationship. He pointed out his wife to me by saying “That’s my baby!”. He told me that when you know, you know. And he beamed when speaking of the upcoming nuptials. Michael called LB the love of his life and then we had cupcakes from Georgetown cupcake. No detail was spared and so on top of the cupcake was a heart shaped piece of fondant. I licked the icing off the back of the heart and then LB walked up, took it out of my hand, asked if it was edible, then bit something I had licked. I could only laugh. God, I love that woman. It was very like her and our relationship. One of mutual love, respect and pure joy when the other does something fantastic.

I know that I can leave you with this: I don’t doubt for a second the amount of love in my life. In fact there is a lot of it. But maybe, just maybe, I’m ready for a little companionship. Maybe I’m ready to share my bed and my pillow with someone other than my cat. Maybe.