When I woke up this morning, I found myself thinking about a guy. And since I've been such a piss poor blogger, I can't remember if I've even written about him here. And since I'm still waiting on the coffee, I can't be bothered to look.
The guy is a previous customer of ours, someone I don't even have a clear picture in my head of. He's older than I am, but has a good job and as far as I know, no children. He's been wanting to take me out for almost a year. I've not went because I wanted to double date with another couple who has surprisingly let me down.
So this guy called me a week or so ago and left me a message and I never returned his call. I had already just decided not to go out with him in a decision that came along mostly because of my flaky friends and not so much on account of him. But in the process, I realized that I wasn't really as interested in dating at all.
Snow told me once that the longer you are single, the more likely you are to stay that way. I've not had a true relationship since before Trin was born. She's eight now. And the only pseudo relationship I've had since then was the Mr.I debacle. I stay permanently torn between thinking that there is plenty of time to find Mr. Right and wondering if I have wasted eight years that he and I could have been together?
Does that mean I think this guy is Mr. Right? No... but truthfully there isn't any way for me to know since I don't want to go out with anyone?
So as I sit here this morning drinking my coffee, stretching and relishing the twelve hours of sleep I got last night, contemplating apple pie for breakfast; I wonder... I wonder about that life with another person. I wonder about waking up not next to a sleepy, tangled-haired eight year old but next to the man I want to be with. I wonder about drinking coffee with him as we plan out our day. I wonder about being able to talk to him about my job, my daughters, my life... our lives.
I wonder if he is out there right now or if it will be years before I meet him.
And then I snap back and wonder if I am just more wistfully romantic in the mornings and if in a couple of hours I will be back to normal.
I feel bad for this guy. I feel guilty. I would hate have hated being the girl who is trying to get the guy's attention to no avail. I feel badly that I haven't returned his calls. And I justify it by convincing myself that if he were the one I would know it already.

Labels: Dating, My pathetic excuse for a love life