Sometimes I wonder. I wonder why so many other people got to meet their person so long ago. Why they’ve had years and years and years together, made memories and babies together and I’m still wondering if you exist. I wonder if it makes me a terrible person for being so envious (that’s a prettier word than jealous, right?) of their happiness. I wonder if it makes me crazy for wishing I had someone to fight with. For longing for someone who makes my blood boil and my heart soar at the same time. I wonder if that even exists. Maybe I’ve just spent too many years without you that my expectations are skewed. Maybe I’ve built you up too much, built it all up too much. I worry that I have. I worry that I’ll meet you and I won’t even know it’s you, won’t be able to see past the you I’ve created in my head to see the you that’s right in front of me.
I wonder if it’s the same for you. If you’re out there feeling empty. If you’re wondering why everyone else gets to find their person when you’re left alone. Are you alone? Maybe you’re not. Maybe you have someone. Maybe you’re as desperate to find me as I am to find you.
I worry that there’s a piece of me missing. Some fundamental piece of me is just not there. Somewhere along the assembly line of dna pieces lining up this one just didn’t show up. I wonder if that’s why while everyone else is out there finding their people, fighting, loving, living with their people I’m here with my cat.
I wonder if it makes me a terrible person that sometimes, sometimes my wonderful, amazing friends and family aren’t enough. Sometimes the hole where you’re supposed to be aches too much to ignore. To put on a happy(ish) face and act like everything is okay and I’m just fine being the third, fifth, seventh wheel. I’m used to it by now. It’s fine. It hits me when I’m not prepared, with a small, almost thoughtless touch between strangers. A kiss to the cheek at the grocery store, absentmindedly placed. Sometimes I’ll be in a moment and realize how much better it could be. It’ll become glaringly obvious there’s something missing. Sometimes I’ll see that touch and my skin will sing with the absence.
Sometimes I wonder how much longer I have to wait until I find you. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can wait until it’s too much. Until the utter unfairness of living this lonely life catches up with me. If maybe this is just something I’ve dreamed up. Too many years in books and movies and my own thoughts.