I’ve been single for 15 years, with a few notable relationships:
I can’t forget Steve, literally the smartest man I’ve ever dated.
Or Drew, who was the TALLEST at 6’11” tall.
Jay was the sweetest and the closest I came to pure happiness.
But he was followed by The Professor who altered my life forever by teaching me to test my edges.
The Swede captured my heart despite the unsurmountable distance between us.
And continuing with the international theme, I was totally enamored with Charlie The Aussie, who was the most adventurous man I ever met.
Finally, there’s Luke who I don’t really care to remember that often on account of his poor post-miscarriage behavior.
There has been a smattering of other men thrown in, but those are the highlights.
I’m starting to think, because I’ve been single for so long, that I make a pretty good single person.
I keep busy with friends and family.
I have a sex life.
Occasionally, it’s even robust.
It may be unusual and atypical for a single female living in the Bay Area but it keeps me happy.
Pretty much the only thing I miss from being coupled up is having someone to remind me when it’s time to rotate my tires.
The only reason why I’m looking AT ALL is because I don’t want to be single in my sunset years.
I want to travel and explore the world with someone when I retire.
Share history with someone.
Can’t blame me for working toward a goal.
Especially when the goal is to create a little more love in this world.