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Can a recovering undercover, over-lover make a confession?
I love love, despite the word on the street.
But love is as foreign to me as the Japanese language. As dead to me as the folks I visited in Oakland Cemetery on a tour on a chilly Sunday afternoon. As unacknowledged as the extra swig of complimentary wine I hinted that to the bartender at on said cemetery tour.
I know I’m not alone. I have a great life and I celebrate every day. I love my friends, the activities I participate in and fun my city has to offer. It’s a good life. Just not the life I’d expected. When you are young, it seems that everything will fall into place like magic. You’ll follow a path and check all the boxes to get a good job and make good money. You’ll meet the person made for you (there’s someone for everyone, you know) and you’ll work together to buy a house, start a family and pass along a legacy. My life looks nothing like that. I followed a path and checked the boxes and woke up from the dream world to discover that student loans had to be paid and networks and not necessarily hard work is the key to getting a good job in a changing, global economy. That maybe there simply aren’t soulmates and that love doesn’t build legacies.
The hardest part is only knowing the best man in any crew. Single ladies, I think you know what I am talking about. I’m talking about the time you ask a platonic male friend who they could hook you up with and they respond, “You don’t want any of my friends…” What a blessing and a curse to always know the best every male crew has to offer.
This means that all the learned expectations and things that were taken for granted had to be thrown away. New expectations had to be made and accepted. A different type of legacy might be left.
Overall, I would not complain and I would not change my life. It can be scary and frustrating to redefine your life. Or it can be exciting to set the bar and design the best possible life.