Love makes the world go round and round and round, but if all that spinning makes you dizzy, it’s time to slow down and take a well-deserved break from the emotion that sets the heart in motion
I enjoy listening to the radio on Valentine’s Day. They play so many one-sided love songs, with none of the heartbreak and pain. Lots of make ups, no break ups.
As a divorcee who has endured their fair share of failed relationships, I know it’s not all true. It’s as if a global Public Relations machine has given love a big gloss, with flowers and chocolates. What’s not to love?
But it’s really the dedications I listen out for. I smile when the DJs put their hearts into the delivery of those special messages. I could listen to them for hours. They restore my faith in the world. If only everyone felt this way.
People send messages of love they’ve been saving all year. To my sweetheart, my angel, my one and only… my spookie, my baby, my special num- nums. Some of them speak about old loves, worn by time, gratefully acknowledged. I nod my head. They seem rare, and worth sharing.
What’s their secret? They’re inspiring. Others are a little more hot under the collar, hopeful, passionate. I wonder how the intended listener will hear them. With a sense of fear and foreboding, like I would?
When someone loves me, I feel a sense of responsibility. When someone says “I love you,” I feel prompted to say “I love you too.” For me that’s a warning sign.
They serve to lessen my romantic isolation, these dedications, as I imbibe some of the fuzzy feelings that other people share. That others are happy out there doesn’t make me feel envious or left out. I’m happy just as I am – single, carefree, independent.
I don’t miss being in a relationship. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t hope to celebrate Valentine’s Day some day, when I meet my own sweet darling sweetheart angel pie doodums.
Love changes everything. For better and for worse, mind you. It’s a two-edged sword, that I know. And at the moment, I’m happy to watch from the sidelines. I enjoyed telling a couple I know how wonderfully they talk to each other. “Do we?” they asked. “Yes. It’s lovely to see,” I say. I can be near love and feel it too.
I used to think that I was incomplete without another, that I needed someone to affirm me. I wanted someone to challenge me (not too much), and help make me the best me that I can be.
But after my last disastrous relationship, I really think I need to do things differently to get different results. I cannot go charging in hoping to save the day. No.
So last year in August I decided to go on a sabbatical from love for at least a year, and get to know myself better, without the lens another person provides. I got off the highly amusing dating sites and stopped looking.
I stopped meeting strange women for coffee, and telling them that I didn’t want a relationship, or a quick tryst. All I wanted was company and I have enough of that now.
There’s a secret part of me that knows if I’m not on the market, I’ll ironically up my chances. And then I duly met a lovely person who ticks all my boxes. But I know how I am.
I’m not ready to be with anyone else for a little while longer yet. To quote musty old rockers Toto, I must “hold the line – love love isn’t always on time.” After all, you can’t hurry love. I’ll just have to wait.
When I do meet someone worth spending my time with, I hope to be ready. Even if I know that may never be. I’ll have come to terms with who I am.
I’ll know not to project what I want in a relationship onto someone else, and blame them for not providing it. I will speak honestly and openly, and listen with compassion.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to accept and admire the other person for who they are, not what I think they are, or hope they are. I’ll take things slow. I’ve had too many crashes before.
While I wait for my wounds to heal, and my baggage to settle, I’ll keep quiet faith. There’s love in me that’s growing.
Leave a Reply