My Guy Isn’t Out Right Now (An Epiphany)
There I was, sitting outside on a rooftop of one of Dallas’ most popular hangout spots on Memorial Day Sunday.
I felt really cute that day; you can never go wrong with white on white, especially if you have tan skin to offset it (which I do). I started the day optimistic and excited, ready for whatever came my way. It was about being out and about with friends on a perfect spring day, enjoying each other’s company and people watching. But the more wine I sipped, the more the “why” behind the day got away from me. With each refreshing swallow of rosé making its way down my throat and into my feels, I started noticing that the only people entering the bar were couples, and the only people exiting… were couples. Probably on their way to dinner. After all, it was a Sunday that was really a Saturday, so a date night only seemed right. And I wanted that. I wanted to be leaving or heading out for a date night.
Realizing that I was so aware of who was coming and going also made me realize that I was mentally somewhat on the prowl, so to speak. And that made me feel lame. And desperate. And obvious. Suddenly, I just knew that everyone in the surrounding area knew that I was single, lonely, and 32. What had started as such a fun, happy, carefree today was rapidly falling prey to a self-pity party, and I was having serious trouble stopping it. Thanks to the 4 nachos I had eaten and the 1 glass too many of wine I had consumed, my defenses were down. I was letting it envelop me and fuck with my entire day, mood, and mentality. And that’s when it hit me.
My guy isn’t here.
At this bar.
He wouldn’t be.
Whoever I’m going to end up with is not out on the town right now, on this popular rooftop bar, on a Sunday that’s a Saturday. This isn’t his scene. It’s barely mine, so why would I assume he’d be here? No, of course he’s not. The person I’m supposed to be with is home. Maybe he’s chilling alone, leaning into his singlehood and binge-watching a show. Maybe he’s not alone but instead at his house that he owns, in his backyard with his grill and some good friends, enjoying the holiday weekend. Maybe he’s traveling somewhere cool or at his married friends’ lake house, smoking a cigar and sipping on wine, totally content but definitely wishing he was with someone. Maybe he is with someone, but the wrong someone. And he’s on the verge of realizing that.
My guy isn’t here.
At this bar.
He wouldn’t be.
This isn’t how he would be spending his time. I mean maybe, if his friends dragged him out or something. But my guy isn’t going out with the intention of meeting someone. I mean, that’d be cool, sure. We all want that. Easy peasy. But he has more going on than being on the prowl with his buddies. Most of them are probably married anyway or at least coupled up, doing their own coupley thing just like my situation is with my friends. We’re in the same boat, in the same ocean, more than likely just a few strong paddles away yet we have no idea the other exists right now.
And maybe we’ll both be adrift in the same ocean for a little longer. Maybe we’ve already passed each other in the night, but the lighting and timing wasn’t right. Maybe we’ll drift a little further away before the current changes and turns our boats in the right direction, toward each other. I know he’s out there, but I also know my guy isn’t here. At this bar.
He wouldn’t be.
xox,
