Final Blog

Posted in Uncategorized on February 10, 2017 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

I started this blog years ago, when I was a newly single woman trying to navigate the dating world and relationships. It served as a form of expression for the hilarity, heartbreak and utter frustration that can exist in both those realms.

In the years since I’ve started it, I’ve been through a couple of relationships and many first dates. Now, I’ve been involved with the same person for over two years. Do I think he’s the one? Do I think it will last forever? You know what? I don’t even need to speculate or process that because it will be whatever it will be and I’m ok with that. I’m in a very different place than I was when this blog began.

I’ve learned some valuable lessons from writing here and corresponding with some of the readers. One of the main ones was the knowledge that people will do what they wish with my words, whether what they do with them or think about them is an accurate reflection of what I meant or not. So whether posting about myself or about someone else (and avoid posting about someone else!), be willing to face the consequences that might come from that. Nothing on the internet is anonymous and I made the mistake of thinking because I didn’t attach my name that I could use this site freely and honestly.

I’ve realized it’s time this blog ended. Both because I don’t need it any longer and because there are people who still have animosity and will behave badly to try to mock and belittle me. That’s ok too–I hope they’re somehow able to make their peace with things and move on.

I’ve started another writing project, one which won’t have the negative connotations that this blog has acquired. I’ll carry the lessons I’ve learned into this new project and once again be able to write without the constant knowledge that my words are being used against me by those who are not friends. I’m excited!

To those who have been readers from the beginning–thank you for bearing with me through what often seemed a muddled, crazy mess. Again, I believed this was a place I could process, so I wrote about things I would probably rarely talk about to anyone except my closest friends. I let all the crazy hang out. I still think there’s value in that, because we all have crazy and just try to pretend we don’t. Sometimes seeing another person’s insanity helps us realize we’re more normal than we thought! Still, when your ex’s wife is a reader and it has resulted in all kinds of drama, it gets a lot more interesting in an unpleasant way.

So, this is my final blog on this site. Thank you again to all who have taken the time to read and send me emails and comments. Many of your emails have meant a lot to me when I was going through a hard time; I so appreciate the support!  I wish you all love and joy every single day!

Choosing to Leave The Madness

Posted in anxiety, awakening, resolutions, Social media, stress with tags , , , , on June 14, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

Yesterday I deleted the Facebook App from my phone and decided to take a nice, long break from it.

For weeks now I’ve been reading post after post filled with vitriol over any number of subjects: The current political climate, the tragic shooting of a beloved gorilla in the zoo, the sentencing of a convicted rapist. News stories posted and shared repeatedly, personal opinions from friends and acquaintances, speculation about the world and future we’re creating for ourselves and our children. All mixed in with selfies, memes and videos.

Usually I enjoy Facebook, because who doesn’t like a tiny peek into someone else’s life?(Even if it’s been proven time and again that the “peek” doesn’t really portray reality). I enjoy seeing pictures and posts about my nieces and nephews and reading the often insightful thoughts of my friends.

Lately, however, everything feels like it’s rubbing my emotional skin raw. The more I read, the more I started to feel like most of humanity just plain sucked. Comments on news stories left me wondering if most people were really as cruel, petty and shallow as they appeared on social media. Coverage of the Stanford rape case filled me with uneasiness about the world in which I’m trying to raise two daughters. Seeing news clips about an actress, and speculation over whether her unusual appearance was due to plastic surgery, the day after the largest mass shooting in the history of the U.S.? I felt sick.

I’ve felt myself on the verge of tears just from feeling overwhelmed by data, much of it negative and heartbreaking; Suddenly, I had the realization this was something I was inviting into my life multiple times a day. I was constantly feeding on negativity, getting sick from it, then convincing myself the world is a really horrible place. How crazy is that?

The last week with my kids has been better. The arguments (a future post on that!) with my nearly fifteen year old have been less frequent and I’ve had an easier time staying calm in the face of frustration. We’ve cuddled and talked, enjoying each others company. One day we decided to go out and dance and splash in a sudden rain storm, getting completely drenched and laughing hysterically. We made hot chocolate afterwards and spent the evening between reading and watching a favorite show. Another day we pulled out an old Wii game, all three of us giggling over how bad we were at it. My daughters drew, they helped more in the house and I felt more relaxed than I have in weeks.

I was reminded that so much of the world is what I choose to create for myself: Beauty or ugliness, depth or pettiness, it’s within my grasp to choose what to focus on. I believe sometimes we need to see what’s wrong in the world so we can choose a response to it, so we can take a stand to effect change. But most of what’s wrong with the world can only be changed from one place: Within ourselves.

I can’t say I’ll be done with Facebook forever, but it feels good to have made the decision to take a break and focus on the beautiful things in my life: Family, friends and the wonderful community I’ve chosen. More dancing in the rain and less ranting about Trump and Clinton. More giggling hysterically with my kids and less focus on the terrible injustices in the world. Lots more doing my part to be love and compassion, in the face of horrific and almost incomprehensible tragedy.

So long for now, Facebook!


Mother’s Day Approaches…

Posted in blended families, Mother's Day, Mothers, Parenting, parenting after divorce, raising daughters, single moms, single parenting with tags , , , , , , on May 5, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

Mother’s Day is Sunday and the retail circus is in full-court press when it comes to trying to increase sales. I, of course, start thinking about what I want to do for my own mother, as well as the other mothers in my life. How can I honor them?

That led to wishing I had a partner who would help the kids do something sweet for me…or buy me flowers…or take me out to lunch. Before I knew it, I’d gotten myself in a funk. I thought about the time when my kiddos asked me what special thing I was going to make for dinner and dessert to celebrate Mother’s Day (which is actually kind of funny), because they got the concept that Mother’s Day was about celebration, but they were too young to understand what that meant. I was always the person who planned celebrations, so why wouldn’t I be the one to make this special too?

So, on a PMS low and still smarting from some recent ugliness, I got in a feel-sorry-for-myself funk.

It lasted for about an hour, long enough for me to ask my other single and divorced mom friends if they ever had Mother’s Day sadness. Everyone who answered came back with “yes”. As usually happens when I talk to friends, not only did I feel supported, but it also allowed me to take a step back and see things a bit more clearly.

The truth is, I’m amazingly lucky. I’ve got two children who are healthy and gifted with so many wonderful things: Intelligence, creativity, humor, beauty. They have a father who wants to be a part of their life and who assists me financially. They have a stepmother who tries to be a meaningful, positive presence in their lives. I have a tribe of family and friends who are there for us when we need them. My own mother is still alive and healthy and a constant presence in my life.

Not everyone has these blessings.

There’s my friend who lost her firstborn to cancer when he was a very young boy. I know she has a constant ache in her heart that will never leave.

There’s my coworker who had two miscarriages within a year, who still grieves those losses. She’s still dreaming of the day when she’ll become a mother.

There’s my friend who is a divorced mother of three, two of whom were diagnosed with Autism. Not only does the father not provide any financial support, he also makes no effort to be a part of his children’s lives. This mother does whatever she has to do to support her kids and give them every advantage she can, while also being the one daily who cares for their needs. She’s stated before that she’d be grateful if her one child was even able to verbalize “I love you”.

There are the women who’ve lost their own mothers and every Mother’s Day is a remembrance of grief.

Then there’s me. Two living, healthy, amazing kids. An ex-partner who despite our many differences still supports his children and wants to be a good parent. A mother I get to talk to daily if I want. Yet I grieved for the breakfast in bed or flowers I wouldn’t get. I felt sorry for myself that Mother’s Day ends up feeling like every other day.

Perspective is a wonderful thing and I went from sad and feeling sorry for myself to grateful within a very short span of time. I’m blessed and I need to realize it every single day.

Being a mother is amazing…and hard…and very often a job where the recognition of all the effort put in can be scanty. A day that honors mothers is nice, but it’s only one day. It’s the unexpected look of gratitude and the soft “Thank you” that comes with a hug that recognizes me. It’s the surprise cards, poems, and acts of thoughtfulness that touch my heart. It’s the sincere, “I know you do so much for us and we appreciate it.” that I get once in awhile that gives honor to the effort I put in. Most importantly, it’s watching them grow and become lovely, strong, capable young women. It’s knowing that if I do my job well enough, they’ll get to a point where they can stand on their own.

To all the mothers out there putting their heart and soul into raising kids into healthy, happy, competent adults: You are amazing. You are worthy of breakfast in bed and flowers, gifts and cards; I hope you get them. You are worthy of honor, respect, and gratitude. No matter how you came into being a mother, you are special. So happy early Mother’s Day, Sunday and every other day of the year.



Mean Girls and Motherhood

Posted in awakening, blended families, dealing with ex's, Mothers, Parenting, parenting after divorce, raising daughters, single moms, single parenting with tags , , , , , , on April 26, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

Tonight I got cyber-slapped and it stung.

Noticing my blog views were crazy, off-the-charts high, I wondered what was going on. So I opened up my app and looked at some of the referring websites. One in particular seemed strange to me, so I followed it. What I found was a nasty surprise.

Mean girl syndrome can, apparently, last into middle age. I won’t go into a lot of detail about what I found there, except to say that it was a nasty critique of my blog and even worse, what they perceived as my failings as a human being and as a mother. Followed by lots of others jumping on the bandwagon. The person who began this has a slanted, peripheral, yet weirdly connected view of my life. They also clearly have a lot of issues with me personally.

Ironically, you might even say I got the ball rolling in the mean girl cyber world. Approximately 4 years ago, I posted something in my blog that reflected my most petty thoughts. They definitely weren’t a reflection of my best self, nor the person I wanted to be. However, despite removing them as soon as I found out the subject of the blog had read it, the damage was done. The hurt could not be apologized away.

Today, I’m the recipient of petty thoughts and meanness and it feels bad. Yet…hard to cast stones when I had to learn that lesson myself. I can wish all day long it was different and that the individual hadn’t chosen to perpetuate the cycle. But in the end, the words we put out into the world move in ways we can’t always control and can sometimes have ramifications we can’t predict.

So today, rather than continue on with the she said/she said drama game, I would like to offer an apology again. That thinking my blog, years ago, was anonymous enough that she wouldn’t find out and it allowed me to post things I’m not proud of. N0 excuse for putting it out there, but it was a powerful lesson to relearn. Once we put it out there, we can’t control it anymore. I’m sorry for the pain it caused and for the ways in which it is still living today, despite removing it from cyberspace years ago. I’m not proud of it and I wish I hadn’t done it.

The truth is, I’m flawed and I’m continually trying to battle those flaws. As anyone who’s read this blog will clearly know. Those who know me and read it see such a fuller picture and so my flaws are forgiven by them.

They see a mom who has been honest about her struggles with depression and the ways in which heartbreak has sometimes triggered that. They also see a mom who never lets it prevent her from taking care of her kids. They see kids that can witness a mother struggle with depression and sadness, a mom who cries sometimes, and realize that it’s okay to struggle. The victory is in the ability to continue doing your best, day after day, and getting up to face the world. They’ll see a mother who never gives up, who is always there for them and who works through her feelings rather than stuffing them. Do I lean on my kids too much? Perhaps if you only know me through my blog, you might read about my wise twelve year old who says something profound about love and life and think she has to constantly care-take me. If you know ME and my children, you’ll absolutely know that I’m teaching them that empathy and compassion are vital in human relationships and that sometimes we need people and sometimes we are needed. Is my child giving me a hug or telling me I just haven’t found the right person wrong if she finds out a relationship ended? Is she care-taking and having to be the adult? Have I overshared if she knows I’ve been involved with someone and that it’s ended? As I found out tonight, clearly there are some who think so. That’s ok-they get to make those decisions for themselves and their kids. Or maybe they’ve not been single, with kids. Who knows?

I know I’ve never dragged men in and out of my children’s lives. I know that in eight years of being single, they’ve met one of my significant others that I was involved with for two years. My children are sacred and so is my time with them. When I have them, it’s their time. When I don’t, they have known that I date.

And yes, I perhaps talk about my feelings a lot in this blog. That’s sort of why I started it. 🙂 It was a place for me to process and be vulnerable about things I struggle with. Clearly, the problem with vulnerability is that it leave you…well…vulnerable.. That’s ok too. There’s been plenty of times when I read something vulnerable someone posted and felt so soothed, because I could say “Hey! We’re all human beings. We all go through shit sometimes.”

As a single mom, I don’t have all the answers. There are days that I feel like my girls and I could take the world by storm, because I feel like as a mother-daughter team, we’re invincible. There are other days I sit and cry at the end of it, because I’m scared I’m screwing it all up and I just wish I had some support.

That’s the thing: I don’t have all the answers. I don’t expect other mothers, birth or step, to have all the answers either. We’re in this because we have been granted the amazing, terrifying, exciting and sometimes heartbreaking privilege of guiding amazing human beings into adulthood. The most beautiful and difficult challenge one could ever take on. Whether you carried the child in your body for nine months or you fell in love with the child’s father and the child and became part of their lives later.

What would it be like if we actually supported each other? Instead of cutting each other down with petty criticisms designed to make one person superior and the other inferior. Everyone needs to vent sometimes. But maybe…just maybe…if you tried to see that person as a human being who is doing their best, instead of as an adversary you need to have others rally around you to tear down, we could do an even better job parenting these amazing kids we’ve managed to have brought into our lives.

So…I’m going to keep writing my blog. Which is scary, because I’m making myself vulnerable. By doing that, I know you may use the opportunity to try make me appear small or one-dimensional to others. You may use the chance to pick apart my flaws–trust me, you’ll find them. You may mock me and use it against me. I’m still going to keep writing my blog. I hope you don’t. I hope that perhaps we can just band together to work on behalf of the human beings in our lives, who love us both.

However, that is up to you. It’s up to all of you. Be the light or be the darkness…which, yes, one of my flaws is a tendency toward the melodramatic when I write. Sue me. 🙂 I was part of the cycle and I’m really hoping the cycle ends with me. Mothering is hard, whether the babies came from your body or not. Amazing…and hard. Why don’t we try building each other up?

An Important Note To Lurkers

Posted in Uncategorized on April 25, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

A really neat feature of my blog app is that it tells me exactly how people got to my blog, complete with links to the websites. Cool feature, even if sometimes it does lead to some interesting, if not surprising, revelations.

It’s true that putting yourself out there, even without attaching your name, opens up the door for criticism. I think “pathetic” is a bit harsh, but everyone is entitled to their opinion. I’m glad at least one of my readers has found an outlet for their pain and resentment and a place they can feel free to express their very clear anger toward me. It’s a shame they’ve managed to point people toward my blog in a hateful way, but then again, trying to process painful feelings in cyberspace is something I’m familiar with. So perhaps it’s a taste of my own medicine? 

Still, for future reference, it’s good to know I can see the websites that lead you here.


The Bittersweet Taste of Closure

Posted in Uncategorized on April 20, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

Tonight, I followed my heart and found that my heart didn’t steer me wrong.

Two human beings, both flawed and both knowing the face of our demons, agreeing to have an honest, vulnerable conversation about how to honor an ending.

I love him. I see him. Even through the anger, hurt and loss. I feel like I’ve seen his heart and he’s seen mine. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. Even though I know anger and hurt will resurface as I process this end, I’m glad we had tonight to honor the relationship we’ve had with respect and love.

I don’t have all the answers tonight, I just know it feels more bittersweet than bitter. Love is always the answer.


Posted in Uncategorized on April 14, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

This will be brief.

Soon, I plan to post a funny, light-hearted blog. It will make you laugh, I promise.

Tonight, I am too laden–with grief, with anger, with loss.

I met with a new therapist today, to try to cope. I like him, quite a lot. Still, it’s exhausting and hard.

Tonight, I feel too heavy. My sadness is too strong to be light or funny or inspirational. This is MY honesty. Tonight sucks and I’m adrift in grief, anger and longing.

I hope tomorrow will be better.

Sisterhood and Bravery

Posted in intuition, love, Relationships, self-esteem with tags , , , , , , , on April 10, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

This week has been so different from how I’d planned it. After all, a week with no children and no work is a rare occurrence, so I was imagining between my plans and the plans with my lover, it would be a week of relaxation and bliss.

Instead, it’s been a week of processing and grieving. The silver lining is it was a week free from my usual responsibilities, so I was able to attend to my own emotional and physical needs.

That punched-in-the-stomach shock and grief has softened to an ache, although the anger is still strong. I’ve had time to look back over 15 months and place conversations and interactions into context and it makes me want to smash things. I’ve also realized that beneath all of that there is a thread of shame…how did I not see the truth? Why did I believe excuses and misdirection? How could he not love me? Was I not worthy of love? Did I not inspire love? The trigger effect of finding out the truth shook me. All the insecurities and fears I’ve struggled with for over a decade reared their ugly heads and I immediately called a therapist and made an appointment, because I had brief thoughts of “I can’t do this again. I can’t deal with this pain. I’m not strong enough.”

Fuck. That.

I CAN do this. I have to get through the heartbreak and anger and to the other side, but I refuse to let this leave me emotionally devastated and feeling like I did something wrong by falling in love with someone.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty I can take away from this. It’s the same basic message–trust my instincts. Don’t allow red flags to be explained away, rationalized or covered up. Speak my truth, even if it means giving up something I desire.

I’m brave and strong. It takes courage to love someone and not everyone is capable of it. I loved and I expressed that love, bravely and honestly. Instead of feeling shame that I loved someone and it didn’t work out (again), at least I took the risk of loving. I took the risk of being vulnerable. I opened myself up and I WILL NOT take on the guilt of his actions by thinking they somehow reflect on my worth. That’s on him.

I know he cared for me. I wish he hadn’t made the choices he did. But those are about him, not me. I will miss him like hell, no matter how angry I am, but one of the things that I believed about our relationship, that it was honest and open, wasn’t true. Trust is broken and trust was very much something that was required to make things work the way they did. This is the first time, ever, that a relationship has ended and I feel no compulsion to go back to him or try to make it work. Not because I don’t still love him. Not because I don’t think about him or miss him. But because the discovery crumbled the foundation and broke what was special.

And this week…thank god for the women in my life. My mother, who talked me through some of the pain and has continued to be there for me all week. My best friend, who listened to me stumble through the story, spilling out my sadness and rage without ever once saying “I told you so” and who made me laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation. My dear sister-in-law who said all the right things.  Other female friends who were angry along with me and muttered curses on aspects of his physical being that made me laugh through my tears. All of the women in my life who had my back and were a support to me this week as I struggled my way through the worst of it, who wrapped the mantle of sisterhood around me and helped to prop me up. They knew the things to say that none of the guys in my life–father, brother, friends–would know to say.

Thank you for being my sisters. Thank you for being part of my life.

Tonight my children come home and tomorrow I go back to work. This week of crying as I needed to and being able to take care of myself will allow me to put on a brave face and face life as I return to my normal schedule and responsibilities. I know in time this pain will continue to ease. I know eventually I’ll be able to forgive him and move on, hopefully finding someone new when I’m ready.

Because I’m brave enough and strong enough to be willing to love and risk and be vulnerable, even after heartbreak.





The Muscle Memory of Grief

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on April 7, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

It’s been a year since I last posted. During that time, I’ve been involved with a smart, witty, sexy, intuitive guy. That relationship came to an end, by my choice, after a glaring omission came to light. I won’t go into the details, because frankly, I’m not sure I’m up to doing the tell-all stories of the rise and fall of my relationships anymore. It’s too painful. It feels too vulnerable, for him and for me.

Suffice it to say that it sucked and I’m once again getting to remember what grief over a lost lover feels like.

It’s been a long time since I felt it. Not really since the politician’s son have I had to cope with swimming in such an intense mixed sea of emotions. No matter how many years it’s been, the actual ache in my heart and the fatigue in my body remembers it well.

I had an overnight trip planned the next day to a favorite spot. After spending the entire night after he left weeping, sleepless and ill with the emotional pain, I decided to keep my plans. I cried the whole drive, then managed to calm down at various points throughout the day, even experience brief moments of joy, only to relapse into tears. I cried in my Jacuzzi tub. I cried while talking to my best friend on the phone, while sipping a bourbon cocktail at a local brewery. I cried on the phone updating my mother on my plans for the week and that I would NOT be out of town with my lover later on that week as planned. Sometimes I just found myself staring numbly out a window.

I have vacillated between intense anger, sadness and compassion, then back again. There were brief moments between when I felt calm and clear-headed, even felt joy at something I saw. Then I would get that hard, sucker-punch of grief again and feel like doubling over. I don’t know how other people process grief, but for me, it’s so intense that I would do almost anything to escape the onslaught of pure feeling that invades me.

I’ve never loved gently. It would seem this is no exception.

Knowing that he won’t be a part of my life hurts like hell. Knowing without a doubt that I was never going to be the part of his life that I’d hoped we’d have a chance to grow into and that I didn’t have the full information I thought I was acting on, makes this the only decision possible.

I’m going to try so fucking hard to not let this color the 15 months we had together, which were amazing. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so accepted for who I am. I know that I’ve never felt so turned on mentally and physically. I felt like I could tell him everything and he actually remembered and cared about events in my life, tiny details others might miss. Every time we were together felt alive and amazing. I allowed that to let me rationalize staying, despite the things I very much wanted and wasn’t getting. I didn’t want to walk away, told myself that a beautiful and intense 25% was better than a tepid 100%. And without the revelation I didn’t have all the information, there had been omissions, I might have gone on that way for a very, very long time. Perhaps this is what I needed to walk away, stop rationalizing, finally admit I’ve spent many of the last 15 months feeling lonely, wondering why we weren’t getting closer. Still, the revelation doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing , intense and made me so happy every single time it felt like a drug I couldn’t get enough of.

It just means I’m angry. I feel deceived. I feel loss.

I want to remember the beauty and not let it be tainted. I’m going to remember that after things fell apart that night, he stayed and held me as I wept and didn’t leave. I’m going to hold onto the kisses he gave me and the way he wrapped his arms around me, sitting with me, even thought it would have been easier to leave once I’d told him I was over. Surely that means something? I’m trying to let it act as a balm to my very broken heart and bruised ego, which is calling me a fool and telling me I should have known all along. I’m trying to not let anger assign the villain role to anyone.

I’m riding the wave of emotions and reminding myself this too shall pass. I took the risk of loving someone; sometimes risk means failure. It doesn’t make me stupid, just human. It feels almost unbearable right now, but even though it’s been a long time since I was here, this isn’t the first time I’ve gone through this. I survived then and I’ll survive now. Self-care, self-care, self-care…my in-remission depression is twitching and now I have to work to regain equilibrium.

Compassion. Love. For him and for myself. As a piece of metal art I ended up buying says, “If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies.”

May I emerge from this with hope for the future, more wisdom and new wings.





Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Posted in Uncategorized on April 21, 2015 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

I’ve been MIA for quite a long time now, while I’ve deal with an incredibly stressful legal situation (which is still pending). As my blog has come under scrutiny and been used as a form of attack, I’ve had very mixed feelings about posting. My ability to post freely and honestly is very hindered right now, which saddens me. Yet I’ve had to face the reality that my children are the most important thing in my life and if my blog is being used against me in connection with my children, to any degree, it doesn’t matter how ridiculous, banal or off-base the reasons are. They exist and I must acknowledge them.

That being said, I’ve been thinking a lot about love and all the nuances can exist. I used to believe that loving someone meant that you ended up with that person if they loved you back. If you didn’t end up with them, it was because something was wrong or they just didn’t love you enough. I took it personally. Since then, my view of love has expanded considerably.

I’ve learned that it’s possible to love someone and have them love you, yet realize they’re willing to walk away for things they want more. And it’s probably for the best if they do, because they love the you that dresses pretty and goes with them to great restaurant, is totally flexible with their crazy schedule because you only see each other once a week. Children, conflicting schedules and priorities would grind that love down until there was nothing left.

I should know, because I’ve also loved someone deeply, for years, only to have that love chipped away until there was nothing there but dust and an ever-growing antipathy.

I’ve loved someone who loved me back just enough to keep me hoping, only to have them shatter me and leave me to put myself back together.

I’ve loved someone, then hated them, then loved them, then hated them, then let enough time pass to break the cycle so that the love could be transfigured into something that was healthy, even if it meant friendship instead of romance.

I’ve recently felt the flicker of…something…for someone and had to work my way through the fact that despite feeling physically, emotionally and psychologically drawn into their orbit in a delicious, dizzying pull of desire, to attempt anything beyond what currently exists between us could kill the high and breed resentment at our ill-matched long-term goals. Sometimes you can feel things for someone and realize they are just that: feelings. You don’t have to do anything with them, just enjoy them and be willing to recognize they aren’t static and very likely may change.

Do I dream of finding a love like the one I wished for when I was younger? Of course. But at 41 I’m less quick to turn away from love that doesn’t check all the boxes, because I’m all too aware that life passes quickly, so you should drink up every single drop of joy, desire, friendship and love you can find.