To my someone






Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Well, love, it’s been yet another year that we either haven’t met or I just haven’t figured out who you are.

New Year’s was lovely; the only thing missing was you, as it is every year. The only men at the party were married with kids … lots of hollering, energetic, hyped-up-on-sugar kids.

Each time one got injured (and there were quite a few incidents), I was magnetically drawn back to the liquor stash. When I ran out of wine, I switched to the Black Label. Oddly, I wasn’t drunk — of course, that’s because the hostess put out a feast. And one of the guests made vegan everything. Which, um, yeah. But it was tasty. Hey, I started the new year off healthily, more or less, right?

You were part of my evening, as you always are, even though you have no idea you were “there.”

I took a minute, as I always do, to slip away from the crowd and gaze at the moon and wonder what you were doing at that very moment. I wondered whether you felt my absence the same way I felt yours.

You’ll be here when the time is right, I know it. But that won’t stop me from asking the universe to put a rush order on you so we have all the time together we can.

Until then, we know I’m not the biggest fan of kids (especially not as the only unmarried and kid-free adult at a New Year’s party), but I wondered whether you like and want kids. And whether you would be enough to change my mind on the subject.

A beautiful little girl named Robin, maybe age 3 or 4, introduced herself to me. That’s my mom’s name. She was in a cute pink halter dress and kept pulling it up over her head and showing her matching underwear. Just like my own mother, probably. 🙂

I have to tell you, Soulmate, I figured I’d want a boy if I ever got hijacked into wanting to have a kid. But damn, she was cute. And if you’re anything like my grandfather (I hope you are — the best man, father and grandfather who was ever put upon this earth), a girl would be lucky to have a daddy like you.

I tried not to wonder whether you were kissing anyone at midnight. I was in the car with my friend and her two adorable boys, as we celebrated “false midnight” at 11. And I wondered whether you were aware enough of my own absence in your life to feel that same twinge of “Where is she right now?”

I’m happy with how my year started off. I just hope that maybe, finally, possibly, I’ll get to spend this coming New Year’s Eve with you. And as many of the days, weeks and months until then that the universe allows us to have together.

This is our year. I feel it. I know you do too.

Yours forever when you find me (please find me soon),

Goddess

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