I was crying at the dramatic end of a show tonight (what can I say--
I'm tired!), and I found myself thinking of the guy I'm dating (boyfriend? can I use that word?).
It was another reminder that I am entering a season different than the one I've known.
A married friend once told me that getting married to her husband felt very natural. And, although I'm not even engaged, I can see what she means. I feel very much still myself. I actually like that. I don't wake up with dread in the pit of my stomach, like I have in the past. I don't have to wonder day by day if the guy I'm dating will change or if something will be revealed that will shake my world. His consistency is what I value. And in that consistency, I can trust and, yes, relax (now that I've gotten through the most trying stage--another story for another post).
But, back to feeling natural. I still feel very much like me. I haven't become someone else. I don't feel like I've attained something monumental by virtue of dating for 10 months. It's just...natural.
But I know that I am nearing the zenith of all the dreams of my singlehood. And not only mine, but the desires of all my single friends.
I know that if I were to marry, they would feel like they have been left behind. That they would feel alone, with unanswered prayers, and no companionship--or some combination thereof. Because that's how I feel so many times. Have felt?
See, that's where it gets weird. I'm like, oh, I so understand. But, then I go and think of my boyfriend instead of thinking of some mythical future guy or thinking about how it's just God and me, and it smacks me in the face that there IS a difference between single and not-single. It's frankly hard to reconcile the two--the friend I want to be because I'm single (ie. in the same season of life), and the friend I'll be despite not being single (in a different season of life). I feel the same. But I won't be the same. I won't be the same, but I wish I could be the same, and still not be single.
And the other problem is that God has brought me amazing settledness in the last few years of being in my 30s. Maybe even contentedness, if one can still strongly desire and still be content. But I don't know if that's because I've had sequential infatuations the last few years that have kept me from feeling all the pang of loneliness, or if it's that I've forgotten after almost two years of having my guy on my radar, or if it's just truly that I've felt more settled. (A friend in her 30s once told me that this decade was better than the 20s because you're more settled, and it's proven true. Now she's about to turn 40, so we'll see how that turns out.) So, sometimes I can't currently relate to my single friends who are in the thick of the desperate loneliness. Because I haven't felt that as much now as I used to.
More thoughts--
Part of me is like, once I'm married, I can hang out with all these married couples. My friend circle may expand.
Part of me is like I am still hanging on to my current friends! Don't you dare think I'm different just because I'm married!
Part of me thinks if I didn't make a point of hanging out with married couples when I was single--if they didn't include me, and I didn't make a point to try to be included--then it would be hypocrisy to join in the crowd now as if my status has changed my--or their--value.
*sigh* So many thoughts.
Meanwhile, I live betwixt the realms.
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