No Wine Before It’s Time

Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Ebb and Flow.

I’m making huge progress tonight on finishing a special project  that’s  been floating  around for over a year now. In fact, it should have been done a year ago, but for some reason, it was delayed.

The Long-Awaited Honest-to-God Secret to Being Happy

I didn’t understand it then. Why the delay after all that wonderful effort? It was so meant to be! And yet, things kept it from happening on the time schedule I wanted.

What’s happened in the past year is that some new information has come along that I’ve added to the work- in-progress  that  I’d  thought   was   the  work-that-had- progressed-to-done.  And  what  I’ve  added  makes  it  a stronger result, with longer-lasting effects.

I guess it was still fermenting.

I took a short break tonight and suddenly realized that it’s a Friday night. I had not even considered anything social  tonight,  though  I  enjoyed  last  night’s  mind-puzzle movie, The Prestige. But because  I played  last night,  that meant working tonight to get this project out the door on Monday.

So I was caught off-guard by the realization that I’m into the weekend and hadn’t made any plans whatsoever other than home and project stuff. There’s a mind-set my generation  has  that  you  should  be  “out”  on  a  Friday night, or if not, resting up for your big Saturday  night. Sometimes that seeps through and surprises me.

I don’t know which bugs me more—that I’m not out and about and being social on a weekend night or that I didn’t even think about it.

That’s when I sometimes  get this quiet but definitive wave of wishing I had a partner on this Friday night to sit with under  the stars  and  listen to night  birds  and talk about…everything…and  end up making out in the grass or snuggling in the hammock.

The devil on my shoulder  whispers to check out the men online or just call someone but with a few cleansing breaths, I can usually regain my  serenity and skewer the little bastard on my shoulder. The online dating sites are definitely not for me, not any more than the bar-and-club scene. I really don’t think I’m going to find anyone special hanging out in any of those meat markets, and even attempts at male friends on line have, for the most part, been disappointing.

Guys don’t seem to understand that when I say I’m looking for  friends, I mean I am looking for people to talk to about common  ground  and share experiences as friends and without the romantic trappings or any intent of sex, ever. The guys who say they’re looking for friends mean they’re looking for someone to have sex with without the romance and without any semblance of a relation- ship. Friendship equals no-strings sex? Oh. Talk about a major misunderstanding and disgust on both our parts. I clearly  did not understand  the definition  of friendship, but that’s my romantic side, I suppose.

But  the  occasional   bout  of  loneliness   is  still  not enough for me to settle for less than I desire in a partner, even if that means it takes a while.

Still, I’m making huge progress on finding someone special  enough,  even  though  that  idea’s  been  floating around for a couple of  years now, since my divorce. In fact, I would have thought I would have been done finding someone special a year ago or more, but for some reason, it was delayed.

I didn’t understand it then. Why the delay after all that wonderful effort? I know I’m not meant to be alone. I’m too loving not to share it.  And yet, things kept it from happening on the time schedule I wanted.

What’s happened in the past year or two is that some new experiences have come along that I’ve added to me, the work-in-progress that I’d thought was the work-that- had-progressed-to-done. And I’m sure that the partner I long for has been going through his own unique growth experiences.   And  what  we’ve  added  will  make  for  a stronger  result,  with  longer-lasting  effects.  I’m  feeling really good about where I am now and what I’ve learned and how far I’ve come.

But wherever my partner is, I guess he is still fermenting, too.