Time is ticking by so slow lately. Work days are long. My head is not there. I mentally slip out every couple of weeks. I think of finding new work. More money. More respect. But head is messed up with my heart right now. I admit it. I’m lonely. I’m bored. For the first time in 4 years I haven’t worked a second job or been in grad school. I go to the gym over lunch. I met up with a friend for drinks or dinner randomly on a week night, but most nights lately I come home, make dinner, watch TV, look online for inspiration or for a class to take. But it ends in frustration because I lack passion–well it’s not that I lack it, but I haven’t found it. Is it in a yoga or pottery class? I dream of taking an Italian language class but then I realize I hate learning a foreign languages, 8 years of Hebrew and I still can’t speak a full sentence. I’ve been feeling lost for a couple of months now. Since grad school ended and work has calmed down. Maybe that’s why I’m obsessing over things not working out with Him.
I called The Voice to tell him about it, Why can’t men commit? I asked. It was answered by his hearty laugh. I know all men all different, but I thought one 40 year old guy who never wants to get married and have children could advise me on another. He asked what I didn’t understand about the conversation with HIM, the one where he confessed that he likes hanging out with me but doesn’t want a label. The Voice said it started under different pretenses. Pretenses that are so unlike me. I don’t hook up. My friend Brad once told me that he could never see past a girlfriend he had because of the way they hooked up the first night, he couldn’t get past seeing her as just a piece of ass. It bothered me when he told me that story, but rings true now. The Voice, who knows I blame myself for things not working out, tried to reassure me it wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything wrong. But I always question things I said, or did not say. Things I did or could have done.
It just felt really good that first week. I had been craving affection and he gave it to more than I could have ever expected. He held me tight when laying down. He held my hand and pulled me to him while watching TV on the couch. We could of had fun for awhile, but it’s simply not me. I don’t know what my passion is, but I know that I need more out of life than just fun for awhile. I need to know that the person holding my hand is interested in a future. Whether that future is planning dinner or a movie for the weekend, or knowing that the person holding me wants more for his future than bachelordom. It just didn’t work out. I have to accept that and move on. But time ticks by so slowly that I feel stuck in the what ifs.