“You’re going to the wrong places.”
“You’re doing the wrong things to meet a good man.”
“You don’t meet good men in a bar.”
(The persistent nagging comments from my friends about why I’m still single.) I heard these comments often, especially last year right before I went into my bubble and right before shit hit the fan.
I knew this wasn’t true, however, I started to doubt myself. While I was still single my other girlfriends were all being snatched up by random guys they had met at hobby groups. They could attend the groups and pretend they joined them for reasons other than dating, but we all knew the real reason. And before you know it, one of my girlfriends was in a relationship with someone from running club and other found her solemate of the month at a coed kickball game.
I tried to think of hobby groups I could join just to prove them wrong, but I’m too much of a girly girl for coed sports so I was left with the tantalizing options of a knitting group or birdwatching. Everything else involved sports or drinking. So I kept attending my drinking club. At bars.
But then I gave up on everything. I was in a happy single bubble and I didn’t need anything outside of my bubble. So I started a class in the fall and I was quite pleased to find sans dating I was able to maintain complete focus on my studies and work and my own well-being. Everything was working out well until my own hobby of taking a class turned into the “right place” to meet a man.
At first, I never even saw him, A. I was in my own bubble world, not able to see beyond the boundaries of the bubble’s wall. Slowly, over time, the bubble wall became thinner as he consistently looked over at me every week. It went in stages. The next stage I saw him looking at me and I got angry at him for trying to penetrate my bubble wall. I successfully ignored him and went about life as normal inside my bubble kingdom.
Then one day, A unexpectedly shattered my bubble wall. With one comment to the teacher, quoting a line from one of my heroes of all time, he made me see him. The wall had shattered, but I continued to pretend. I pretended I didn’t care and I pretended there was still a wall there.
The next time I saw A, I walked right into from around a corner. I decided fate had given me a task and I at least said hi. The conversation immediately sparked as we dove instantly into the things that interested us and found ourselves swimming in the same ocean of passions.
I had to leave for another class, and I walked away, my head spinning. Clearly, he had penetrated my bubble. I was already in too deep with this chance meeting.
Things unraveled quickly after this. The next time we bumped into eachother A got my phone number. We talked and texted late into the nights about life, we had seemingly endless topics to discuss. Our conversations and our personalities clicked in and locked up tight.
Shortly thereafter we started dating and we became inseparable. There was something different about him. He made me feel safe and nourished me in a way no other person ever has. He got me on a primal level, he nourished my mind, body and soul.
Now I knew what it felt like to find someone while on the search for my own passions and self-discovery. It was too soon to tell, but I decided, this must be what true love feels like.
Every day with him was like perfection. It felt like we were sailing a ship on clear waters, everything seemed effortless. But what we both never predicted was the massive iceberg just below the surface waiting to take us both down in one hit.
That hit happened months into our relationship. Months seemed like years because being with A felt so right as if we had just walked into a time warp of infinity together. Months, however, was not enough time to fully know everything about eachother.
So on a particular day of exploring eachother, we discovered one major fundamental difference of opinions. On one subject. But one subject that is so important, and we stood on the exact opposite sides of the matter.
I wanted children and A did not. That was it. The iceberg that waited under the water was the thing that killed us.
And then I laid down on the floor and let go into the deepest sorrow about a relationship I’ve ever felt.