But There It Is

See, I didn't quite expect a message from him that night, although that would have been an excellent sign he was into me. But I was a little bummed there wasn't one in the morning.

I knew he had plans for that next day, so didn't really expect a message for most of the day, but then as the day turned into evening and there was still no message, I started to feel a little discouraged. I know how this works, you see.

I went for a walk, to clear my mind and get some fresh air, having already run the gamut during the day from "it's his loss, I rock!" to "good god I'm fat and ugly, no wonder" to "no, I'm not fat or ugly, get a grip" to "man, it sucks that he's not interested".

I suppose I was still hopeful, at that point, that there'd be a message waiting. He'd been pretty consistent over the week or so we'd been talking, and usually messaged around the same time every day.

Besides, we'd originally arranged to meet that very evening, but changed it to the night before when plans changed. He said it'd work better for him that way anyway. So I guess in my mind I figured he'd be home, having, perhaps, thought of me at some point during the day, sitting down to write a message, hopefully about the next time we could meet and spend time together.

But, then again, there was still that thought lingering at the back of my head, that gut feeling from the end of our date that he wasn't all that interested.

I mean, at least with what's his face from last summer, when we met that first time, I knew he wanted to see me again, I could tell. And he did. And he let me know he liked me, right up until the moment he didn't.

So I was mildly hopeful perhaps, as I rounded the corner and headed up another street on my walk. And I'm not sure why I glanced across the road, and I'm sure it was ironic that I'd just been thinking about him and his car because that glance across the road took me right to his car, and him. And the blonde getting into his car.

He wasn't at home, writing me a message. He was out.

Possibly on a date. Probably on a date.

"Hey, turns out I am free that night, things opened up, let's grab dinner."

Because it's not like he owed me anything. We just met. No one's saying you can't date ten people at once until you decide to just stick with one. And it's not like it's the first time a guy's dumped me because he was going out with someone else from the dating site and ended up liking her more.

But it still hurt.

And it really does lead me back to the thought I keep coming back to recently - I think, perhaps, I'm just meant to be alone.

I think maybe I'm not built for a romantic relationship. I think maybe I'm just meant to live the rest of my life with it just being me.

And my parents will be gone one of these days, the two people who are built to love me. The two people who gave me parts of my heart and soul. And after them, there is just me. And really, even with them here, there is just me because they have each other. As does everyone else in my life.

So this is the mourning I think I need to process. The fact that it is probably, for the rest of my life, in a very real way, just going to be me. I'm going to be single and alone from now on.

And since there is no getting younger and I'm heading towards what may be the mid-point of my life, or close to it, I can't begin to tell you how sad I am to look into that length and see me never having someone close to share it with.

And, yes, this one small event reminded me of this. I am a good person. I am likeable. There are people who like me and people who love me. I am a good person. I'm just not someone anyone wants to be with.

And maybe I used to be, but maybe I just slept my way into relationships and thought that meant they loved me.

So it's going to be just me, and I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to be ok with that.

But there it is.