First Dating: Stolen fate (short essay)

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the crisp nip of fall mornings, hot coffee, long button-ups and boots - I love cozy evenings in and red wine and all of the other wonderful things that make the fall a seasoned favorite. But more than all of the novelties and nostalgia, I love fall because it has always represented a time of reflection. The days are a bit shorter and with them come moments of solitude. You're at home with a glass of wine and nothing more than the thoughts bouncing around in your head. I love those nights. I think about work, mostly, and my family. I think about changes I would like to make with my career or lifestyle. I think about literature, my friends, and the newest restaurant opening its doors. And sometimes I think about the past; I think it is important to let the past creep in once in awhile. If we can't remember where we came from, how are we supposed to know where we are going?  

These cocktail hours with history often make my a little blue - there is always some part of the past that you wish you could return to. That is the nostalgic part. But then there are some things that, when remembered, make you glow from the inside through your fingertips. Sometimes I reflect on my past relationships and I think, "If I had settled at any point earlier in my life, I would have never known the kind of happiness I have today."And THAT is a profound realization. If you sit and marinate with that thought, for just a moment, you see the huge impact that the past has on your present. For me, I remember every heartbreak, every mistake, and every pleading conversation with God that litters my memory. I didn't understand my unfortunate luck with love and I always assumed I would be wifed and wed by my mid-twenties. Instead, I grappled with the idea of happiness as a twosome and cursed cupid when he didn't hunt in my favor. I saw every prospective partner through rose-tinted glasses and daydreamed about the possibility of "the one".

I think that happiness varies with contentment. It is one thing to feel comfortable in a relationship, and thus, feel "happy". But is that real happiness? Or is that just emotion that exists between "happy" and "unhappy" - like a train station, except that you aren't waiting for anything yet. You are still staring at the schedule and debating on whether or not you want to go anywhere at all! And while you're waiting, someone will brush against you and ask, "is this the line for the 9 o'clock?" Before you know it, the distraction of conversation steals your attention and you're laughing at his jokes and noticing the way his eyes crinkle and crease when he smiles. Like magic, it happens in an instant and you never expect it.

That kind of love can never be compared to anyone, or anything else. It's the kind of love that blooms in the middle of the winter when everything else is hiding in hibernation. It is the sneakiest thievery your heart will ever know. It isn't settling, and it isn't regret. It isn't indecision over train schedules or life direction and it isn't uncertainty. It is a bubble bath in November with your soul mate and a bottle of wine. It's love: imagine that.