So the tale of the greatest love story not yet told picks up where it left off with a young who loved the world in all its wonders, who had hopes and dreams and ambitions almost totally lost in her quest for the new, exotic, and home away from home. The girl who feared to live on the ground, because up in the air, things remain fantastical from a distance and even when you touch ground, you only have to stay for a short while.
But life happened. That’s not even true. The inertia of her life, which had long gravitated towards a certain path, followed its internal gravity, in a different direction from the road not taken fork in the road. Everything was questioned, down to diet and exercise. Pounds were gained. A few months, nay, about half a year was spent in existential, self-obsessed, solipsistic depression ish, and the only hope seemed to be the promise of a faraway dream, and the total plenitpotiarity of a life where everything was still possible, because nothing had really happened. But a lot had actually happened.
So this crazy girl’s life ended up following the internal logic she herself (in concert with her environment and the general flow of things) had set up. She did not take the plane to Paris. She realizezd she was still in love, or at least in love with the possibilities she imagined, of the guy she’d met just before shipping off to France, when life seemed to get in the way of a great thing. She realized that the great guy she was seeing there could never be her best friend, no matter how tolerant and respectful they were of each other’s differences or how kind they might be to each other. She realized that this other guy, whose flaws she was a bit more familiar with and who actually opened up to her about his deepest troubles, was actually still more appealing, despite his rejection of her due in no small part from the circumstances under no one’s direct control (timing and location). And this guy, of course, happened to have started a very steady job in the place where she met him, her first city, the place where she had always envisioned launching her career.
She remembered the itchy feet feeling she’d had at the end of her first summer interning there, the clal of worlds not explored, and the belief she really could make it anywhere. She thought about the people who came there as adventureseome youth and slowly set down roots there, seemingly become just old people, seasoned professionals in a city of transplants, whose charm stemmed in large part from its self selectedness, just as its splendor and dazzle were linked to the corruption and waste and other unfortunate trappings of power.
She’d been tempted, so tempted, by that major and charming city that was truly past its glory, no longer the center of art and romance and culture and business for the world. Maybe not past its glory, still particular, but perhaps more charming for the fact that it would never be the center of her American world, unless she chose it, and that the “real” world would always be home, and home would always be America, unless she was really to put down roots and transplant in a more permanent way that would endanger her hopes of coming home from Neverland and all its wonders. Yet the peril of growing up seemed to be that that fair and beautiful city, which at first seemed almost purer for its decay was actually more fetid and life even more harsh than in the contemporary center of the world. And that life would be much harsher for her there as an immigrant, there by choice and not by chance, or fate as it were. But it still made her heart soar to know that this place existed, that fairy tales in their way were real, and there was something more than that provincial town that had become the capital of the free world, through the turns of history and fortune and freedom.
So now this girl, who once shunned the seemingly sure prize of this thing, just yearns to be there. Yearns to see the face of her old lover again and look into his eyes and see what two years have done to him, if his crow’s feet are more pronounced and if he’s really all she’s cracked him up to be, she who has now had some time and incredible experiences. And he has a girlfirned, but who knows how serious. And the scary part about this guy is, that the only real reason she sees right off the bat for things to end is that she doesn’t love sports or dogs that much, and maybe he’s not nerdy enough and there’s some guy with a silver spon out there for her instead. She knows he couldn’t give her all those extras she had dreamed of. But what she does know, which scares her unutterably, is that he is her friend, her real friend. He may not be her best friend, and their contact might be sporadic, but both had consoled each other in times of crisis. And every time they spoke it feltl like it had only been yesterday they had talked. At one point she had thought he might be the best man in the world, next to her father, but now she knew, because she knew him for years, that he was just a man. He hadn’t been perfect to her, hadn’t moved any mountains, and hadnt’ galloped in on a white horse when she felt she needed saving or at least to be carried off into the sunset.
She’d realized, through all her gallivanting and adventures, that maybe a friend was as important a white horse, and maybe being able to swap tales of past ribald adventures was quite precious. Not impossible to replicate in someone else, but precious nonetheless. And she couldn’t deny that there were so many cool things she wanted to talk to him about, and that maybe there were many more guys out there but she always pictured him when she was on her coolest adventures, and she knew he was genuinely interested in them and envied her. She’d written books in her mind of things to talk to him about, and she hoped one day they would talk till dawn with no holds barred, and lots of hand holding and cuddling. This young lady, who’d known her share of paramours, still hadn’t found anyone as comfortable to sleep with, despite the fact that he was the most beefcake of them all. She couldn’t even say he was the best lover she’d ever had but when it came down to it, he’s the one she can’t stop thinking about wanting to see again.
There was someone in Paris, from somewhere even farther away. He was kind and good, but also a little selfish like a youngest child can be. And it was never really clear where they stood, but maybe that comes with the territory when its known the cowgirl will be moving on out, and maybe he could have been more generous. And maybe that just obscures the fact that she met someone awesome totally by chance completely different from all she said she wanted and they’d nurtured a connection for months even after seeing each other, half hearted though it might have been, and though she’d been quite easy to bed this guy form a concservative culture loved her anyway and gave her the cuddling and support and lovin she deserved, although he could have been more generous with the oral although she never complained. Suffice to say, he was an awesome two month boyfriend, and he even met her parents and they liked him, but he really didn’t have enough in common probably to build a serious relationship, and though they wanted the same sorts of things they wanted him in different ways, and he was unable to plan an outing, and she’d probably never be able to joke about former lovers with him. Anyway, she hadn’t gone back to France, and he couldn’t follw her to America and thought she was crazy for wanting to go to France anyhow and preferred New York, which the lady wasn’t terribly interested in at all.
So there.
So now this lady love is at home, looking for work that will sustain her career and sustain a life she plans on living for a good long while at least, and praying that it surfaces in DC, because that is where she wants to live her life and build her career and that’s also where she is thinking about going to grad school again, to get her phd, because it is the heart of public policy and tht’s been her main interst since pretty much earliest youth, besides French but she never took French as seriously and it always brought her great joy and ease, maybe because she didn’t take it as seriously, and French is beautiful. And my lady, she wants to see this blue eyed dude who she has created all these stories about in her mind, and who she actually gets along with pretty well. Because he is just too much like her and she’s not sure he sees it or cares and he’s not available, plus he’s a serial monogamist anyway or at least really into dating which is fair because he is a bit older and at least he wants to be in a couple. They have discussed their other affairs with each other which might be a little strange but not really since neither was available to the other except my lady always loved him a little and was only able to have her fling because she set him down for a moment, and he’s been in a number of relationships and at least one he was quite serious about. And my lady was planning to be in France by now anyway, and he never tried to hold her down or persuade her in any way. And maybe they are both just really scared and my lady says she is a romantic which is true but only wants guarantees the dude is failsafe pretty much because he will cross an ocean with his heart just to date her. And these have been some incredible but sometimes lonely years for her, with the traveling and existential depressionand what to do with her life, and basic inability to sustain a long term relationship or even start one in good faith.
And my lady is scared so so shitless sometimes, but she wants to make the leap. The truth is, she wants the life she always wanted, but now she knows of other things too, and kinda wants that. But what she wants most, whether she likes it or not, is someone who loves her in addition to a good career, which is harader to sustain despite her somewhat fear of commitment when one Is not leading a settled life. And she wants to be employed and not struggle financially and changes in the economy have created a lot of instability so risks are greater in some ways than they might once have been. The truth is though, this girl is awesome, she’s been preparing a whole lifetime for this job she’s about to get, is hoping for, and will do great once given the chance. She’s taken a little bit of time to relax and reflect and retool. She has “failed “ at France, which was one dream, but is gearing up to tackle her first and maybe even biggest one, and then maybe get a Phd which would be awesome. And she just wants someone to cuddle with.
She knows a man is really not going to make her life any simpler. She knows that a relationship will cause her to ask tough questions of herself and the person involved. She knows she is not the person she once was when she was in a long term relationship that failed and being in a relationship would be an adjustment for her. And to be honest, she is afraid of the failure of a serious relationship again, because the way the first one went down was traumatic. And she hopes that someone will really love her without dragging her down, and will ask her to stay without depending on her to survive. She hopes that someone will really love her again, and soon. And she is ready to love somebody. It’s been a while, and her life is lonely sometimes. She was made for love and passion, and while ambitious, success in the career field is not enough to sustain her and she knows that. She is not in a hurry to get married or anything, but she knows that is something she really wants, more certainly than almost anything else. And the scariest thing about that guy in DC is, he’s really the first and only person so far she’s been able to say kind of fits what she is looking for for that. And it is scary. And it is so exciting. And if he didn’t have a girlfriend, she would be hopind he’d be blowing up her phone but he wouldn’t be because he is cautious and she doesn’t have a job anywhere near him, yet. But she wants to talk to him all night, and do other things all night too. She feels a little anxiety about potentially giving up on the dating game too soon but doesn’t think she’s missing much. And she is ready to throw fish back into the sea until the right one latches on, that is one thing she is confident of about herself although she knows she can be a bit picky so there’s the fear she won’t open up enough. But she will, I know she will. And I know the universe in its way will give her exactly what she needs and probably whatever it is she truly desires undernesath it all. And at least in her conscious mind, she wants Chris so badly, and in her way, she loves him as a person. And she hopes os much he feels the same, not only for ego but because despite his annoyingish love of sports he feels like a kindred spirit with a lot in common and it always makes her feel good when she talks to him because it is super ridiculous but she still likes him.
My lady, she is kind and good and sweet and funny and smart and beautiful and passionate and brave. She will be an amazing girlfriend when the right guy, whoever it is, comes into her life at the right time and the right place. And now she is walking the strange tight rope of knowing it doesn’t have to be Chris, that doesn’t have to be the end of the story for it to be happily ever after or even for her ego to soothed, but she does think it really might be and wants to at least see him again and hope he is single then anyway. And she knows that only time will tell, and she is eager to start her job, to start her life’s work, to make contributions in that way although she’s been working for a higher purporse, if not clearly understood, the whole time she’s been on the earth. So maybe she needs to just relax and smile, and do what she can. And most important, she needs ot let God take care of the rest. She needs to do her own small part, recognizing how smar though important it is, and that nothing is entirely her fault or her success or entirely up to her. She need sot just humbly rejoice and be so grateful for what she has and use it will w and let God know she is ready for more. And most important, she needs to let God do the things that He can do, and so much better than sje could ever imagine. She is writing her life, and painting her life’s work, but there’s the hand of the Master apparent in every brushstroke, and as his child, she is both a pupil and in a way part of Him too. And ther is nothing to fear or worry about, and everything to rejoice for. And the world, though imperfect to the human eye, is so beautiful and every day of life is a blessing.