You can walk into a McDonald’s anywhere, even if it’s in the city, and you’re suddenly transported to a highway, an interstate, a pitstop in the road. Maybe it’s a crossroads or a place to rest. Either way, you’re tired and slightly worried about the rest of your life, despite the universal comforting smell. Suddenly you’re tired of alone and want the right person to crawl into bed with you, to manage your cold feet and to bring you water. You’re ready for your life to start, even though something nags and pulls on your shirt telling you not to await a start, telling you this is it. And the longer you wait, the longer you ‘ll wait. I just want someone who will make me risk, let me fall, someone there to catch me… someone other than me because I’ve already learned how to do this for myself. I told you; I’m lazy.
The holidays are emotionally taxing for a reason other than regression and family time. They’re milestones hanging on branches of brightly lit, ornamental trees. I reflect back on my previous holidays to realize nothing is really different in my life. And each year I hope I’ll find someone to be deliriously happy with for the next new year’s eve, and it remains that: a hope. It’s not the worst way to begin a year, with hope. Frustration feels heavy on my shoulders in this easy to gratify, customization town. I’m so used to getting what I want as long as I work hard enough at it.
Why no matter how happy I ever am will I want for someone to be in the moment with me? I’ve been poisoned by love songs and jukebox top hits, by movies, and hopes. I’m desperate to fall in love, the kind where you lick sauce off one another’s fingers, face conflict with a strong smile, for hands that don’t want to let go. I feel week for being such a romantic, for thinking someone else can kick start my life. I’ve been investing in myself, in my friendships and passions, but I’ll never feel satiated alone. I certainly don’t mind it, but I hope it’s just a beginning. I want a forever with a partner in crime, and maybe that makes me weak. I don’t care. It’s what I’ll want until I find it. Then I’ll want to keep it and darn it socks and feed it sprinkled cookies.