The supposed spring weather we should be having has suddenly turned into winter again, and I find myself sluggish and tired. I figured that if I worked on a project I might get a bit more energy. As I dug through a box of mine that I have yet to find a home for, I found more of my journals. Apparently 1999 was a strange year for me – I was still reeling from the end of a 2-year long relationship. The first part of the year I was just trying to get things back to normal as I finished grad school. Then when I was finally ready to date, I just couldn’t meet anyone. So I had a series of dates with guys that just weren’t right for me for one reason or another. So on June 26, 1999 I wrote the following:
“Will I ever get married? I know I’m still young (26), but I can’t even picture it. It feels so far away – like it will happen in another lifetime. Who knows, maybe it will. There is no guarantee that I will ever fall in love again, or find that person who I’ll spend the rest of my life with. There’s no guarantee that I will have the opportunity to grow old with someone I love, and raise children and grandchildren. I want these things – all of them, and I don’t believe that I’m selfish for it. I guess that lately I’ve been feeling rather hopeless when it comes to men and relationships. I feel as though I’ll never meet someone.
I think about it a lot, though – meeting someone. I think about the first date, the first kiss, and even being in love again. I think about the mystery, excitement, and romance. Romance – I do miss it. Will I ever experience it again? Will someone ever reach for my hand again? Will someone ever hold my face in his hands and kiss me – so we both know that we’re right together? Maybe I am overly romantic. Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe all that I want is only possible in my fantasies. But maybe, just maybe it will all happen exactly the way I imagine.”
It is so strange to look back on your life like that. I can recall where I was when I wrote that and my state-of-mind (which is pretty obvious from reading that entry). I remember that summer and the frustration I felt when I would go on dates and they would be just that – dates. Nice, but nothing special – no connection. It would be over a year before I would feel that connection with someone…