I know what it’s like to be a loner. I am one. Maybe it’s time I admitted that to myself. I keep picturing myself as this flashy, well-liked social butterfly. I can walk into a room and everyone is just jumping at the chance to speak to me. Everyone gravitates toward me. I am the one they came to see after all. I’m dressed to the nines, outfit on point, ready to take in whatever stop this is on my journey thus far. And all the while, the smile on my face is genuine. I’m there because I want to be and because I’m ready to be. I can’t wait to hear whatever interesting tidbit everyone there has for me. I want to hear it all, from every corner of the room and beyond.
But in all these fantasies, there’s a good man behind me. Whether he’s with me at the event or waiting for us at home. And right now, I am simply not with that man. And these fantasies cannot exist without him.
And that’s fine. It’s going to be fine, anyway.
There’s no reason in the world I cannot have that life I’m dreaming of. I have a lot of living left in me. We traverse multiple landscapes while we’re here on earth. If we’re lucky, we could see eighty-plus years trying to figure it all out. I know I can do anything I want at any time in my life. Except have a baby, but we’re gonna shelve that discussion for another time.
My life won’t be like that until I have something noteworthy to share. The thing that gets me on the map has not quite been discovered yet. I know the medium that will take me there. That’s why I have this space to write. I know I’ve been away for a little bit, but rest assured I’ve been writing more pages than I have in a while. There’s just no rhyme or reason to them. No need to be published. I’m just reporting what went on in my day, what’s going on in my mind, my pants, my heart, any old place. There’s a lot of words but no cohesion. And if I want to start bringing in crowds, I’m going to have to give them something that’s worth the price of admission. They all ventured out of their homes to come see me, may as well give them their money’s worth.
And the only way I can achieve these dreams is to get out there and learn what it means to fly solo.
I’ve been spending the better part of a week just sitting outside by myself. I bring my laptop out here and sit in various places around my neighborhood. Parks, seating areas, Columbus Circle. Anywhere I can spend a few hours after my post-work nap and just write until I’m tired of writing. Then I’ll head home and write some more. And do what I need to for work, of course. But I do wonder what people think of me. Just a random street lady with her laptop. I’ll get up and stretch then go back to writing. I take mental trips around and outside of New York. I look at people and compliment any dog that decides to inspect me. And I wonder what people think I’m writing. The next great American novel? A diary? My mischievous plot for world domination? Well, I hate to disappoint everyone, but it’s mostly just a buncha bullshit. At least I like what I’m writing, and I guess that’s all that matters right now. I at least made the effort and hauled my ass outside.
Either way, this is what I like to do, especially in this season. I love summer in New York City. Being out here and restarting my stalled search for a bigger apartment has really made me appreciate how special this city is. There’s absolutely no reason in the world I can’t find everything I ultimately want here. I don’t need to go to another place, it’s already here. In this city. A city I love with all my heart. The city where I came into this world. But I think a lot of people will tell me that if I really want to go after what I want, I need to “put myself out there” if I expect to find it. That’s a little difficult in a post-pandemic world, especially for an only child who has no single girlfriends. Or at least friends she can see on a more consistent basis. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate every chance I get with the people I love. There’s just a desire for me to have travel buddy of my very own.
Yeah, dating sites exist. Woo hoo, whatever. At this point, I’m past that stage. I can’t do it. I’ve done it. I’ve done well. But I know there’s another way that’s meant for me. And I seem to have chosen the most isolated and difficult path to traverse.
If this is what it takes to get me to where I need to go, then so be it. This is my path. I’m not forcing anyone to be on it with me. At least not anymore.
Do I expect the love of my life to just see me and sit right down next to me? Not really. In the sense of “anything’s possible” then sure I believe that could absolutely happen one day. But that day is not today, and it probably won’t be tomorrow either. And I’m becoming more and more okay with that. I’m finding the rocky path to clarity is the one I chose for myself. It’s the one that makes the most sense to me. When winter rolls around, I’ll find another way to hone my craft, so that I can one day make it home with everything I’ve ever desired.
Whether or not I’m a crazy street person or the life of the party, I’ll still end up being just who I am. It’s inevitable. Just as how all our rides have to come to an end at some point. I may be in the driver’s seat or I’m just looking out the window and enjoying the view. All I hope is that I’m lucky enough to have the knowledge that we planned our trip together. I’ve grown tired of traveling alone. I’m willing to try something new. Plus, I hear they’ll give you a discount if they know you’re booking as a pair. That’s a win-win in my book.
balanced & fair 