The sun warmed us as we sat on the dock and chatted, covering all manner of topics but eventually circling back to singleness. We were the only two there who had never been married.
She straightened in her deck chair and turned to look at me.
"You just said 'if' you get married. Do you not think you will?"
I looked out at the lake, the water gently lapping, and sighed. I don't know how long ago I swapped the when out. I've never been good at actively hoping for long unanswered prayers.
"I don't know," I told her. "Some days I feel like it will happen, like God has offered me some reassurance. Other days it seems impossible. We're not guaranteed a happy ending. There's a lot to like about being single and I think I should just resign myself. Stop getting my hopes up."
I swiped at the tear sliding down my cheek. We talked awhile and then headed inside to rejoin the group.
Friends ask about my dating life, assuming I meet eligible men left and right, and I love them for it. The truth is it's been almost two years since my last real date. I'd rather forget about the pseudo-dates sprinkled in between.
My goal is to go on a date by next fall. I don't know how this will happen. I've given online dating enough tries. None of my friends seem to know any worthy single guys and I've never had a knack for picking up a man in a grocery store, even when I've forgotten to take my name tag off. (True story. That happened last week.)
I was part of a tight group of friends throughout high school. While everyone dated each other, none of the guys wanted to date me. Or if they did, they never actually asked me out. My first date was a set up with the friend of a friend when I was 17. We went to see the Nutcracker ballet and it was fine and awkward, the way first dates can be. We never went out again.
Before I started college, people said I'd be batting interested guys away with a stick. Well, that line of interested guys never materialized. I certainly didn't need to bat anyone away. Maybe the occasional drunk guy at a frat party but a firm and gentle "no" usually did the trick.
The rest of my dating history has been filled with false starts and missed chances.
No matter how badly I wanted to be in a relationship, I've always had just enough discernment to say no to the guys who would be bad for me, to rebound relationships, to settling. But it doesn't take the sting away.
It seems impossible that I am 33 and have never been in a serious relationship. Impossible that I've never figured out a reason why or even that I feel there must be a reason. (I know there's not a reason.)
Look, I know I'm young. It could happen at any moment. I hope it does. But I also know marriage was never promised to me- to any of us.
When I was young, marriage was a given. People grew up and they got married. Sure, I knew a few people who married "older" but they were the exception to the rule. I never expected to be an exception. I know plenty of men and women my age and older who are still single, still waiting.
That's a lot of exceptions.
People tell me to be glad I don't have the baggage that comes with break ups and broken hearts but we all have baggage. We've all made mistakes.
There's real pain in the baggage of never being picked.
From not being pursued. From not being asked on a second or third date. From never hearing, "I love you" from the one you love.
It's a painful reality. Some days I'd give anything for there to be a reason because then I could fix it. But there isn't a reason. No matter what I've tried, the right man simply hasn't come along.
I say "if" to make peace with an unclear future and pray I'll accept whatever my lot may be.
While I wait, sit with me and listen. Let me wrestle it out. Let me have hope one day and resignation the next. Remind me of who I am. May that be enough.
