I’m sitting here on my sofa. There is a windstorm blowing through the islands – so strong that there has been advisories and warnings and such.
(My neighborhood kids told me about it as they came to my door last night to warn me. They were so earnest in their attempts to make sure my pots of cucumbers and tomatoes and flowers didn’t blow away that they each helped to carry them inside where they’d be safe. ❤ )
There’s something surreal, though, about looking at everything blowing like crazy this early afternoon, while the sky is blue, the sun is out and the wind is warm.
It’s a really unique type of storm. One that normally occurs in the winter but has shown up in August.
Not what I came here to type, of course, but it sets the scene, or, as my mother would say, “I’m painting the walls” for what comes next.
“I don’t think I’m going to fall in love anymore.” That’s the thought that came up and had me reaching for my laptop to type today’s post.
Triggered by yesterday’s conversation with a new-ish acquaintance about what we hoped God had planned for each of our lives, most of last night and much of this morning was spent with thoughts of “anymore” creating their own storm in my head.
I definitely want companionship, love, a partner, eventually a husband, but the ways and the whys of it aren’t what they used to be.
A few key things that seem light and easy enough to obtain. Not necessarily ‘low expectations’ as much as simple ones.
Someone to live with. Someone to cook with and for. Someone to do things with. Someone to share life with. Someone to come home to. Someone to talk with, touch, or sit next to in comfortable silence. Someone to love me. Someone to love; enough.
Maybe stronger connections could grow from these light and simple things but if they didn’t, I realized I don’t think I’ll miss the deeper ‘in love’ stuff anymore. I don’t think I can let myself do that anymore.
In fact, I believe I am slightly averse to it. Guarded. Protective.
How that squares up to Biblical stuff is a bit tough because I am aware that I want what I want but I’m only wanting it at a certain level and of a certain type. The Bible says in order to get that, I have to marry again.
And I’m acutely aware of my secret fear; I can’t guarantee anything.
Telling someone, “I want to be with you for as long as I can.” isn’t the same as vowing, “Till death do us part“. I know this.
But, to find someone who understands that I am so gun shy, so scared of being fenced in and stuck in something that could take a sudden or a long bad turn, and is okay with my aversion to life-long pledges would be a Godsend.
Of course, I’d be happy to be married again, but until we get there, I need to not feel pressured to ‘get there’, if that makes sense.
“Can’t we just be???” was what I kept asking the last man I spent time with. I didn’t want to game out our future. I didn’t want to try and forecast or predetermine our course. I just wanted to live out our lives as they unfolded, day in and day out – together.
Which, grinning, is so hilarious because I used to be the exact opposite. To quote an old country song, “I wanted to know how the song would end before I started to dance”.
Now, though, things have changed.
I realize I just can’t be bothered to try and fit into someone else’s life or help them understand the ‘who’ of who I am, let alone enter into a relationship with promises of forever.
Now, I just want to have someone here. Low expectations. Low demands. Soft, light, solid, comfortable love.
I’ve long let go of the idea of ‘soul mates’ and ‘perfect matches’. As 50 fast approaches, I don’t want and am not looking for what I used to just a year ago. That chapter of life has gone and I no longer have a desire to have another chance at getting it back.
I no longer hope someone will meet me in the ways I used to want/need to be met (mentally, emotionally, physically). Instead, all those needs have been shuffled amongst friends and God or walled off completely.
What I look for in a man these days is pretty low key.
*shrugs*
Anymore, though, when it comes to the thought of love, like this odd and unexpected storm, I no longer even try to anticipate what will blow my way.