About four years ago, my dad told me that in order to get over my then recent ex, I should “just meet someone.” He emphasized, the “just anyone” portion of that concept, as he thought it would be the only way I could love this city, and love where I was in my life. I was offended then, and though I wound up essentially taking his advice, I always resented it.
This time he told me almost the opposite. And appropriately, this time, I feel older, not just because I AM older, but because I, for the first time in so long, don’t want anyone to come in and dominate my life. I want my life. I want all of the parts of it, all of my horrendous roll-your-eyes and cringe moments, all of the I-love-my-friends moments, and all of the heartbreaking and worldview changing moments I have at work, every single day.
