Read This If You Think You’ll Be Single For The Rest Of Your Life

No matter how much self-love I grew to have I was reminded frequently that everyone around me had found their person and the conversations with my friends quickly turned from, “I wonder when we’ll meet our husbands” to “Don’t worry, your time will come too,” which made me want to run and hide away because I didn’t want to intrude on double dates when I’d be sitting in the 5th seat without a hand to hold or no one to look across the table to and make eye contact with.

And when it came time to go out on a Friday night I felt the need to drink one too many tequila sodas because dancing alone while they all had one another made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. But deep down I knew I was good enough and I loved the way that I danced and the energy I had. Still, there was always the thought of “I wonder if anyone will notice me tonight” instead of just dancing aimlessly.

Ironically, no one came up to me and so I prayed to God and asked him “when is it my time?” and he quietly whispered “when the time is right.” And so I moved forward each day wondering if the time was finally right, conflicted between it’ll happen when you least expect it and you need to put yourself out there more.

But then I’d look down at my phone and I’d see the name of a past fling on my screen and my heart would flutter. For a split second I felt wanted and needed and admired, and maybe for that second it was enough. But part of me hated how much power his name still held and how my mood changed in that split second. Yet I responded anyways and said “I miss you too,” but did I really miss him or did I just miss the feeling of someone’s arms around me, someone’s lips kissing mine, someone listening to me as I felt vulnerable?

I engaged anyways just to feel anything remotely close to what the people around me were feeling. For a long period I equated those drunk messages to the conversations my friends were having with their lovers about their futures, but it was so different. Oh how stupid was I to think it was equivalent.

And it wasn’t until the next morning I’d be reminded again that there really was a piece of me missing, because when I asked her to hang out she said she already had plans with her lover. That made me happy to hear but at the same time I felt empty again because I should have plans like that too.

So I found myself laying in my bath with hot water running and I couldn’t tell what part of the water was from the faucet and which were from my eyelids, but both equally burned. A vision of the younger version of me came to my eyes and I wished I could hug her and tell her I’m sorry it’s taking this long. She responded back don’t worry, I’m still proud of you.

That was the moment I realized that I do love myself and all that I feel. That you can feel happy for others but also sad for yourself simultaneously. And that maybe I should just accept that I do feel lonely. Then I realized that it’s a different type of loneliness when you finally feel whole individually and are ready to share your love, yet the presence of a partner seems far from reach.

But while I was in that bath and tears were running, I started repeating to myself what God had whispered. Maybe one day soon if I kept repeating it I’d start to believe it, because my time was soon — I knew that to be true.

And there will be a 6th seat at the table and it’ll be a triple date. I’ll look across the table and glance at my lover and we’ll go out dancing that evening. My hips will aimlessly sway with no objective in mind. The next morning his name will pop up on my home screen and in the background will be a picture of us with love radiating off our faces.

I’ll feel an overwhelming amount of bliss knowing that I finally made it, that my prayers have been answered, and I too found my person. Long baths will no longer be filled with burning tears but instead roses and lavender. And I’ll laugh at the fact that it really did happen when I least expected it.