Honestly, I’m single, and it sucks.  I make sure that my house is clean, comfortable, and full of all of the things that keep me distracted from the fact that I’m single.  However, when those things cease to entertain me, the brutal truths of a silent and empty home remind  me of my brutal truth; I’m alone.  I really don’t like this.  When I was younger, I dedicated an exorbitant amount of time to trying to entertain as many women as I could.  Like many other young men, I was told that my manhood was synonymous with my numbers.  Honestly, that never made me feel happy or complete.  The truth of the matter is that I simply played that role because it seemed that everyone else around me was doing the same.  The thing that women never get about me is that the way to my heart is not through my body or my belly.  The way to my heart is through my mind.  I’m keenly aware that my love language is words of affirmation.  Because I felt unheard and unworthy for much of my life, it’s wonderful to have someone to not only listen, but also hear.  I’ve only been heard a few times in my life.  I remember what it felt like to be heard.  It’s wonderful.  I remember what that felt like.  At this stage in my life, I’m afraid that I will never be able to love like that again.  I sincerely hope that I can.  I loved from a place of certainty, so I was certain that love would never end.  It did.  Today, I’m uncertain if I both deserve and have the ability to love from a position of certainty.  Of this, I’m certain.  The one message that resounds both clearly and loudly is that I no longer desire to be alone.  This isn’t even about sex.  For me, it’s about life.  I can no longer entertain angels with devilish intentions.  I can no longer allow my body to be the GPS for my heart.  I can no longer pretend to be someone that I’m not for the sake of conquering someone that I knew I could never love in the first place.  This is what I really want to do.  I really want someone to look at Jeopardy with me.  I want someone that I can sit on the sofa with and say absolutely nothing to because our ability to be silent reminds me that our souls are connected even though our mouths have nothing to say.  I want someone to make pancakes for on Saturday mornings.  I know I’m not the best cook, but I’ll try to be better if you say that you like it.  I want to share my dreams beneath a darkened light.  I want to tell you the things that I’m afraid to say in the light because the mirror reminds me that I’m actually the me that I’ve only begun to know.  I want to have snow days with you.  If school is out for me, how could your job possibly expect you to come in?  Who would be so cold and cruel?  I want to sit outside on nice nights and enjoy drinks and dreams with someone.  I want to go dancing, come home, and make love like it’s our first time years after we’ve been together.  I want to share holidays with someone.  I want to share heartbreak with someone.  I want to grow old with someone.  I don’t want to be young forever.  To me, a young heart wanders.   The mature heart is thankful because it knows that wandering often leads to the very thing that you were wandering from; emptiness.  I have to believe that there’s someone for everyone.  I hope that I’m not reaping what I’ve sown.  If I am, God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know what the right thing was, so I was consistently wrong.  I’m sorry.  I promise; if I’m given another chance, this time, I’ll do it right.  I’ll do it as me.  Patrick

This week, please do something for someone else for no other reason than to make their lives better.  As always, if you make it to where you’re going, please don’t forget to leave a map for the rest of us.  Choose Love.

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