I’ve been thinking a lot about love, lately. I think it has very little to do with the adoption, but probably a lot to do with the fact that I’m preparing my life and my home for a family; I’m settling down.
I don’t feel any pangs of regret or need to have the husband before I adopt. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything. I think I’m just simply ready to find a long-term love. I’m finding my thoughts constantly wandering towards that warm, adoring, safe place that is being in love. It sure would be nice to have someone around to share my life with.
The timing is really unfortunate, because I can’t very well start dating right now. When would I possibly have the time to weed through potential mates? And what would I say to them about the adoption? Then there’s the more complicated matter of introducing them to the children. These kids are going to take a very long time to settle in and become comfortable and secure as a family, it wouldn’t be fair to throw an additional person into the mix, especially if that person was still a question mark in my mind. No, the whole idea seems out of place. Dating will have to wait.
I wonder then, how do the rest of the single mother’s go about dating? What will I be facing once my children are in a good enough place that I can put myself out there again? Is there ever a “good time” to add someone your family, and how do you go about doing it? Of course, my situation is unique so there will be differences, but there’s no point reinventing the wheel.
All these years I’ve been telling myself that the only way to get Andy to step up and fight for me was to show him I was strong enough to move on with someone else. We’re told from the time we’re little girls that the man worthy of our hearts has to fight for us. He’s supposed to slay a dragon, ride his white horse to the castle gates with a dozen roses and a kiss that will awake us from eternal slumber. It turns out that with that logic I was actually sabotaging the very thing I wanted the most… him. He was hurting, and he finally told me. Perhaps it’s a bit sadistic, but a part of me was glad to find out that he was hurt, because it means he cared in the first place; I never knew. I felt in my heart that Andy loved me, but he acted so cool and indifferent. He pretended like he wasn’t bothered by jealousy and so I kept doing it because – who can put their life on hold for someone who’s indifferent?
And now, the irony is that it was my own jealousy that has turned him away from me. It was the green-eyed monster that came out one night after too many cocktails and showed the man I love how completely and utterly insecure I am. And now we should “just be friends” because “it’s not fair to make me wait” for him to “figure things out”. It was “nobody’s fault” it just “is what it is”. And the knife is in my chest and I’m dying a slow death at the hand of too many cliché’s. But not a quick death, no… I bled into the night, having one nightmare after another, waking up crying and distraught and wishing away the pain in my chest.
It was never supposed to be about some grand gesture. It was always just about two people who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved by one another, unconditionally. All I can do now is pray to God that he comes back to me, so that I am not left with this hole in my life where he’s supposed to be. For the first time I actually feel like a piece of me is missing; like I’ve lost my best friend and I’m just not complete without him; and I’m sad, I’m really very sad.
“I don’t know you. The only thing I know about you is, you’re reading this. I don’t know if you’re happy or not; I don’t know whether you’re young or not. I sort of hope you’re young and sad. If you’re old and happy, I can imagine that you’ll smile to yourself when you hear me going, he broke my heart. You’ll remember someone who broke your heart, and you’ll think to yourself, Oh yes, I remember how that feels. But you can’t, you smug old git. Oh you’ll remember feeling sort of pleasantly sad. You might remember listening to music and eating chocolates in your room, or walking along the embankment on your own, wrapped up in a winter coat and feeling lonely and brave. But can you remember how with every mouthful of food it felt like you were biting into your own stomach? Can you remember the taste of red wine as it came back up and into the toilet bowl? Can you remember dreaming every night that you were still together, that he was talking to you gently and touching you, so that every morning when you woke up you had to go through it all over again?”
― Nick Hornby, A Long Way Down
I’m in the best mood today! I had an aha! moment this morning… it was about understanding how the opposite sex show that they care. You know, you read it in all of the magazines: When a woman wants to show she cares, she tells him so. When a man wants to show he cares, he does something practical for her.
When The Italian and I were still in our fooling around stage, he was so frugal that I really thought that was going to be a deal breaker when we started dating. He made this comment about how he didn’t mind paying for dates but he didn’t want it to be expected (a fair stance for men, but he was pretty head-strong about it). He told me a story about a blind date who picked Starbucks as their meeting place, and he wanted her to pay for her own “damn expensive coffee” before he got there, so he waited for her to text and say “you’re late so I ordered” before he went in. The first time we had dinner together, he insisted that I pay. He did it jokingly and I knew it was a test, so I teased him for it, but I paid and I told him I was happy to do it.
Now when we go for dinner, he insists on paying. When he goes grocery shopping, he asks if I need anything. When a Chinook rolls through and the snow melts, he trades me car’s so that he can clean mine for me. I’ve never asked him to do any of those things.
And this morning… he surprised me with Starbucks.
P.S. I realize I haven’t been blogging about The Italian much… but sometimes it’s nice to just live it. If you want the day to day updates, you should really be following @IntrigueMe on Twitter.