
At some point, though – maybe a few points – every single woman gets a wee bit introspective. At some point, you notice that about 85% of your friends are coupled up & going on quadruple dates that you’re not invited to because you fly solo. At some point, you start to wonder whether life will look the same at 35 as it does at 25, if you’ll be forever looking & looking & looking & never finding. You start asking yourself questions like “Why haven’t I found anyone?” and “What’s wrong with me?” Luckily, my answers to those frustration-induced questions tend to be fairly rational & not all that depressing – I haven’t found anyone because it’s just not my time yet, and nothing is wrong with me. In fact, I think I’m a catch, a list of adjectives I could tick off touting my own glowing attributes.
Still, all this waiting is getting to be a drag. People come & go – friends are here & then they’re not, & I have a particular predilection for losing touch & fading into the background of people's minds. There are so few consistencies, & inconsistency is, frankly, lonely.

I've never been a girl particularly prone to falling in love. I'm not a romantic; I am not mushy. I never thought love would save me or change me or fix my problems. I don't believe in soulmates or "Love Actually." I believe that people give up, people leave, people change, people become something else, something unrecognizable, and I am forever skeptical of long-term love & my ability to be in it or on the receiving end of it. But I believe that there is someone out there, somewhere (hopefully somewhere geographically convenient & not in, like, Sochi or Turkmenistan) who will look past my bullshit cynicism & insist that I look deeper; someone who will be not only interested in but insistent upon loving me, & I him.
I want to end this on some complete note, something that leaves you saying, "Great! There was a moral to this story!" but I don't have one. This is it, this is all. I'm fine, I'm just feeling a little tired - tired of looking at the world through only my eyes, without anyone else beside me to teach me new perspectives. I'm tired of feeling perpetually second-fiddle, never meaningful enough to be anyone's first choice; similarly, I'm tired of meeting people who are never my first choice. My needs are simple: I want to mean the most to someone who means the most to me. And I want to know how long it's going to take to get there.
“When will then be now?”
“Soon.”
“Soon.”