When I step out the door, turn the corner, enter a room, plan a meeting, go to the meeting, Meet someone, get on the tube, I’m always looking. Always looking for you.
I don’t know what you look like. How told you’ll be. Whether you will be a boy or maybe a girl. Younger or older than me.
Anyone and everyone is almost a contender. A possibility until they are married, or just not interested.
But this must change.
Exhausted with the disappointment of never finding you, I must learn new habits. And doesn’t everyone always say you will turn up when I least expect it?
By always thinking and always waiting. Always searching and wondering I’m missing out on life.
I’ve been afraid for longer than I can remember that you don’t or won’t ever exist. But I must put that fear to bed. Trust must be unearthed and made shiny with the effort of belief and I will stop trying to make you happen. Try instead to learn to just let you happen. Is alone so very bad? Surely much better than together and unhappy?
Single life is a time for personal growth. And perhaps if I stop looking you, the person who will be my best friend for life, may stop hiding.