Precious no-relationship time
by Lyssa Myska Allen
This time is rare and precious.
This is single time.
I’ve never been a “relationship girl”, but in the past four years have been in two serious relationships, and both slowly faded rather than ever really ending. While I felt the pain of both breakups, I never really felt the loneliness.
I can count the number of serious relationships I’ve had on one hand, but I’ve never had a shortage of fellas hanging around. I love the possibility, the excited feeling you get from not knowing someone but imagining what they might be like, the nerves on your first dates/kisses/meeting-the-friends, and the chance that this person, who has their own background and past and family and friends, just might “get you”.
But that’s not exactly the case right now. While there’s always the chance I’ll meet someone, right now there’s no one here, day in and day out, who I hope to bump into at the grocery store, someone who inspires me to put on makeup for the gym (truth be told, that never happens anyway), someone whose texts I pretend not to watch my phone for. I thought I’d be bummed about it. And sometimes, lying in my king-sized bed or changing my own lightbulb, I am.
But mostly, I get the feeling that this time, this gap, is something rare and precious. This is a time I get to be the most ME I am. I get to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want. I don’t have anyone to tell about my day, but likewise, I don’t HAVE to tell anyone about my day (Seriously, dude, I did some internetting. And then some more. That’s it.)
It’s just me and the dog, taking on the world and lying on the couch watching our shows drinking sleepy tea (scotch) in equal measures. For much of my life, I have shared myself with someone—in body, mind, and spirit. And while I love the sharing, turns out I am relieved I don’t have to share right now. It’s liberating and not (yet) lonely.
I love love. I love being in love. But right now, I have to admit I love being out of love.
Image: Some rights reserved by Walt Stoneburner