He.

A Thousand Times A Day.

If I had a dating profile, my user name would be NOTINTERESTED247.

Unless you are Ryan Gosling or his second coming, I might as well have no pulse, I am dead inside.

Ok, that’s dramatic, I am not “dead” inside, it’s simply not where my interests lie.

I have an acquaintance who I don’t see very often, but every time I see her, her first question always has to do with a guy or my dating life. I hadn’t seen her in a while. We re-connected on social media and her very first question was, “So are you dating?”. I saw her just the other day and she said I was glowing and then inquired about my dating life because to her, if I have a glow, it must be a guy that activated the radiance.

I smile at her and make some joke and then I try and get out as fast as I possibly can.

She loves love. She’s a romantic. I don’t fault her for that. I just wish she would ask me a more interesting question. The truth is, I love love too. I had a bad run and it left me less than enthusiastic when it comes to investing my time in anyone. I figure, if there should occur a spark with someone, I will feel it and I’ll decide where to go from there. Maybe I’ll keep it casual to avoid any mess. I don’t know. For now, my priority is my daughter, my music, and the ongoing art of being alive.

Music is one of the great loves of my life. People underestimate its influence on me. I don’t experience emptiness the way others describe it. I rarely feel lonely.

I have my songs.

I live a full and cinematic life. I don’t spend much time trying to fill voids because I don’t feel many of them. I find romance everywhere. In foreign cities. In crowded venues. In fleeting, yet surprising conversations. In the smile of a stranger. Even in the mundane, I can usually find something worth falling in love with. Everything can be a moment with the right mindset.

I fall in love a thousand times a day.

Love itself is extraordinary. I want everyone to find it, feel it, and lose themselves in it at least once. I have nothing against hopeless romantics. They’re adorable. It’s a noble pursuit, best undertaken with a touch of delusion and a sprinkle of naïveté. Complete realism tends to kill the vibe. There is no magic where logic is applied.

Unfortunately, I am a mere mortal and therefore susceptible to all the same emotional catastrophes as everyone else. But my last one re-arranged me and I am not drawn to the experience. At best, I am love-curious.

I hope to find someone that gets me. I hope to find someone who sees me and spares me the audition. I hope to meet someone who understands my particular brand of crazy and finds it endearing. I hope we go on adventures like the ones I already have.

And when I say, “Hope to find,” what I really mean is, he’s gonna have to find me.

He will have a nice smile, an elite sense of humor, his shit together, and the kind of fascination with me that doesn’t expire. He will be kind to strangers. He will prefer me in sweats and a baseball cap. He will surf my moods not because he has to, but because he understands all of my languages. He will know that sometimes I need to dance on tables in foreign countries until the sun comes up, jump in the ocean as the sun rises, and get lost in the world. He will also know that a lot of the time I just want to feel safe at home.

He is exists, somewhere. I’ll most likely bump into him some day.

He will love watching me charm a room and the next day want nothing to do with people. He will know that I need to be feral all the time. He will know how to make that part of me rest. He will appreciate the little things that no one else sees and he will hold my hand with pride, not obligation.

We will have an unconditional partnership built with trust and held together by the same thirst for a life well lived. It will be a love for the ages. Remarkable.

Most importantly, he will love and cherish, my daughter, as if she were his own.

Until that day comes, my life is already remarkable. I make it so. I live with intention. I demand significance.

So if you see me, and I have a glow about me, you should assume that it is just another day in my life. Maybe I just drove with the windows down and my hair loose, listening to a banger of a song. Maybe I’m just having an ordinary day.

And maybe, that glow is because I’m just happy. And I have everything to do with it.