Wistful

Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. And when that happens, I flick on the TV. Saturday night, I caught an episode of Friends. It was the one where Monica and Chandler get engaged in a room full of candles, with tears and tender words. I didn't know how much it affected my psyche until I was walking out of work today, through the store, watching men and women shopping together. There's a quiet kind of intimacy in doing regular things together with your significant other person.

It made me feel wistful.

I've been married and divorced three times, and I don't regret my choices, or my decisions. About 90% of the time, I'm happy with my life, where I'm at, how things are going. I don't have many (well, not too many) thoughts about some Knight who whisks me off into a glorious sunset, taking me away from all the humdrum my life can be. It's too time consuming to believe in fairy tales any longer. And frankly, I have to wonder if I've become so accustomed to living alone, that living with someone again would be more difficult?

That doesn't mean I'm not still wistful. I am.

And I can't help asking myself "When?" Most of my life, I've been the kind that says "When the time is right for it to happen, it will." And my timing has been perfectly timed in the last few major decisions I've had to make. Am I trying to jump the gun on something that it isn't time for? *sigh*

It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking things like "I'm not worth it" ... and even though I know that's not it, its the one thing I conclude in my thoughts. Its hard not to make comparisons from now to other things in the past, to think about would have beens, could have beens, and even might have beens ........

And I become wistful all over again.