Conspiracy

Sometimes as I state that I believe in true love and that love will find me, I feel like I’ve just announced that I believe in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.  People are like “Look at all of these people that found true love.  It happens.  Your turn will be next.”  In my mind it translates: “Look what he left behind!  All of these presents.  Maybe you’ll see him next year.”  People tell me that you can’t plan for it; you just have to let it just happen.  It feels like a great conspiracy.  You won’t find Big Foot or aliens on a hunt; you have to be in the right place and let them find you. 

Now don’t get me wrong.  I still believe in love and believe that love will find me.  I also know I’m far from being a lost cause.  If my primary objective was merely to settle down with a good man and live contentedly as “Jill the married woman”, this would be a done business.  However, I want to be in the relationship that makes sense in my head and feels right in my heart, something that my young self never dreamed would be so hard.  I don’t feel like I’m unreasonable in my expectations either.  I’m not looking for a sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows sort of love.  I’m not blind to the fact that a healthy relationship takes work and sacrifice.  I just want to be confident that I’m in a relationship I want to fight for, to be horribly, hopelessly, passionately in love.  After all of the crap that has gone on in my love life up to this point, dating feels like a Quixotesque escapade.  Its one that I know is noble and good, but I question my sanity as I charge ahead again into the fray. 

Time to see if Dulcinea want to go for a round of minigolf.  Lets ride Sancho!

And maybe people do have to be a little mad to fall in love.  They do it every day.  Its a miracle people find each other and make things work and fortunately, I believe in a God of miracles.  I have faith He will help me unravel my destiny.  Someday riding off into the sunset with the man I love won’t feel so farfetched.  I mean, it might not be on the back of a noble steed or pegacorn or anything, maybe a bicycle for two, but it’ll happen.