when the sidewalk ends

      

         Sometimes I'm embarrassed to say that I've never been in a relationship.  It's a hard thing to admit aloud, and a struggle to continue to admit as I gaze wistfully at a daydream not meant for me.  Friends are in happy, successful partnerships and I ache as I realize I fell behind on the sidewalk.  Again.  I've had almosts and could've beens, but I know now that those instances didn't match the stars in my eyes.  

         I've grown up a lot in recent years, mentally and emotionally.  I've learned to make amends with the green crawling in my skin, and hold on to hope that the stars twinkle just right and I'd finally have a place on the sidewalk.  Love is my favorite emotion, so much so that I can say that I love too much.  I love that those I love the most have found their perfect constellations; it blooms deep in my chest and clings right to my heart.  Love changes the world, and I couldn't be happier for those who have found theirs.

        I used to think that it was me, that I was the reason I've been alone for the past twenty-one years.  I chalked it up to a shitty personality, a less than average appearance, coupled with commitment issues, and the increasingly high standards that I set for my ideal partner. (I know now that my standards aren't too much to ask for if I truly want happiness in another.)  I walk on eggshells because I'm too afraid of rejection and too anxious to step out of my comfort zone of lost and alone.  

        Now, though, I understand that those insecurities stemmed from the mind of a naive girl who knew not of the concept of self-love.  I fight every day with the thoughts that lay in the back of my brain, and on some days they win, leaving me convinced I'll spend the rest of my life trailing behind the couples before me.  I've become grateful for the time I've lived for myself – I don't think I would have confronted important truths about myself if I didn't have the right space to do so.  Being alone is very different than being lonely.  I've been both, but there's a comfort in alone.  Alone is peace, understanding, happy.  Lonely is loud, weak, sorrow.  

    I still dream of a love that's found on Ferris wheels and chance encounters from across a crowded room, but I've learned to take my time on the sidewalk now and to let go of the need for somebody beside me, no matter how much I want the stars to align.  Life is too short to be lived lonely, but I'm not going to rush a relationship when I know I wouldn't be fully happy.  I've never been in a relationship, I can say now with no shame, yet instead, I can embrace the period of time that I've had to grow and to learn what love really is.  I'll dream of a love shown in the movies and written about in songs.

     I just hope they'll be there when the sidewalk ends.