I don’t have a crush, not one. Not even a delulu Instagram, oh maybe we will meet one day kind of crush. My brain is just a merry-go-round of my own insanities. For a fleeting second though, I thought that might change.
I had met a guy at a Halloween party and I was invited to a birthday party the following weekend to investigate further. The birthday girl was excited to connect the dots on this one, so I put on a wig and I went outside. For context, it was a wig party, “Wigcon” to be exact.
I pulled on a green wig, a hot pink corset top and I went into the night. I kept my bar low and my excitement to see my friends high. When I arrived at the party, my party crush from the weekend before was the first person I saw. Next to him was a cute girl in a pink wig. I clocked early on that they seemed to have a connection. The birthday girl was quick to inform me that she was also good friends with her and to “still go for it.” I proceeded with caution. I approached and felt out the vibes. The girl in the pink wig was cool. I ended up chatting with her for a good portion of the evening, having more fun learning about her than my original target.
As the night went on, I learned the best shot to shoot is no shot at all. I liked the pink wig girl and respected that he was clearly into her. She seemed a little indifferent to him but as the night wrapped up, they left together. I thought, good for them. The universe clearly likes the peace I have found in a crushless life. And just like that, the one person who snuck into my empty leaderboard of men was gone and I was back to zero.
Part of me was relieved. If we had hit it off I would have had to maybe enter back into the world of dating again? Eek. After a year of dating last year, this year, I have taken time for myself. Which has been necessary. But as a woman in my thirties, there are signs all around me of what a life with a partner looks like. Most of my friends are married with children. Their lives look fulfilled. Love is abundant in their homes, from husbands and children. They own homes and seem to have security and peace in knowing what their futures hold. While my future remains a blank slate. No “real” responsibilities aside from keeping a career and myself alive. Which, not gonna lie, is pretty chill. Part of me loves the unknown. Who will I meet? What will I do? What does next year, next week or even tomorrow look like?
I still revel in the little joys of life, like eating Cheez-its off my chest while laying horizontal on my couch and telling Netflix, YES I AM STILL HERE. Maybe that is a message to my dating life, I am still here. But for now, I’m good.