Cynical Love and The Single Independent Woman

“Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.”

–Henry Rollins

 

As I sat at dinner with a few old friends from my school days long gone by, I suddenly felt out-of-place; I hadn’t felt discomfort like this in a while.

My discomfort stemmed from that fact that I couldn’t relate the same way to life and love as they did; I decided to keep quiet, observe and take the entire situation into my mind to slowly digest it.

There is a part of me that sometimes feels as if I’ve missed out on experiences that my friends and others have had, such as: going away to college, a great relationship with parents, having a beautiful white wedding with all the frills or raising children.

 

I’ve never been the girl who followed the straight line of how life should go – I’ve always preferred the more scenic and obscure routes.

 

I’m almost certain that my rebellious ways have led me to where I’m supposed to be, regardless of what I might think I’ve missed out on or the crazy routes I’ve taken.

So I sat there and listened intently to my friends…

For some reason, I felt totally removed from the conversation, even though they both did their best to include me. I’m an empathetic person, so even if I haven’t experienced something, I can at least remotely relate.

My life experiences are on the other end of the spectrum from my peers; while years ago this would have made me feel uncomfortable, these days I’m perfectly fine with it.

 

I’ve come to believe that I am the type of woman who “normal” people like to live vicariously through.

 

At moments during the evening, it felt like an episode from TV’s Sex and The City: I was Samantha Jones, the sex kitten, mixed with Carrie Bradshaw, the writer, sitting across from Miranda Hobbs and Charlotte York, the family girls. Reflecting back now, I do believe I nailed it.

A line of Samantha’s from the episode Anchors Away rings true to me these days – “Well, I’m done with great love. I’m back to great lovers.”

I’ve resigned myself to the notion that I’m meant to be alone; I don’t think I will ever find a man who will truly be able to keep up with me in every aspect.

I’m a loner by nature and while I’d love the companionship of a man, being of an artistic temperament it is hard for me to maintain that without him feeling left out, resentful or that he is holding me back from life.

Many have tried and miserably failed.

I’d love to find that one elusive man who can put up with my many moods and my need for solitude at times, plus love me unconditionally and not feel resentful or jealous when I take off on adventures or socialize with other creative people. I need a man with an artist’s mind, like mine.

I’ve spent the better part of my first forty years trying to find and create that perfect relationship; I lived my life with that as a primary goal. Now that I am forty-one, I’m forging a solo path and I’m not one bit sad about it.

 

I’ve waxed poetic over the years about finding the “One” who would make my life and heart complete; my very own modern-day fairy tale. Fortunately, I do not need to be rescued.

 

I’ve often dreamed of having a monogamous lover to settle down with so I can live a normal, average everyday family life, like most people in the world; that seems more like science fiction or fantasy to me these days.

Sure, I get lonely from time to time; in the past, I always found ways to entertain myself. I even had a lover or two I could call when I needed to feel the warmth of a body next to mine.

Some may frown upon me for this behavior, but I make no apologies for the life I’ve lived and the choices I’ve made.

When faced with the choice of settling down or embarking on a new adventure alone out in the world, I always choose adventure over a mundane existence – not to say that settling down is mundane, I just do not think that is where my path is heading at present.

Those times that I see older couples walking arm in arm in the park together, deep down inside I wonder if I will ever have that. I’ve survived the better part of forty-one years without a real companion; where does it say I need one?

I want a man who will completely blow my mind and keep me on my toes intellectually, spiritually and of course physically. Until then, it’s just me, my camera, computer, and cats going through this life together.

Perhaps I’ve turned cynical towards love, but have I really? I’ve already found my one true love and I see her every single morning in the mirror.

I don’t need a man to complete me; I have all I need inside of me.