Since being the third-, fifth-, and seventh-wheel over the weekend, and watching the nuptials of a long-ago ex, I’ve had this funny feeling shawled around my shoulders.
I thought it might’ve been the time change. Or the crummy hotel rooms I got stuck in. Maybe a lack of greens in my diet.
But something was just making me feel off.
Yesterday morning on the drive in to work, where I do some of my best pondering, I figured it out. What I was feeling was longing. Longing to have what so many of my friends have. A desire to do what The Boss and his Bride did. To stand up with the person of my dreams and gush on and on about how much I love him. Then, hold his hand and listen as he tells me, and everyone we care about, how he’d waited his whole life to find me. How he remembers the moment he knew I was the one for him. How he loved everything about me so much that he just had to spend the rest of his life with me.
I want to look into his eyes and see a hundred memories. A lifetime of little moments that only he and I understand. I want him to finish my sentences and dust lint off my coat. I want to run my fingers through his hair every night until he falls asleep. And snuggle against him every morning. Make breakfast in socks and a t-shirt.
After my last relationship, I buried this longing. There was just too much pain to let it see the light of day. But now all the dust of heartache has settled I can’t help but pull it out from its hiding place.
It feels so heavy right now. But maybe if I carry it around for awhile, I’ll get stronger and forget it’s even there.