Meeting Yourself in the Middle

You aren't waiting to meet someone in the middle of the book. You are in the middle of your own story.
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The U.S. congress is much like romance: meeting in the middle rarely happens. That will be the end of my government analogy. The point of this post is the continual aggravation of unrequited love.

I have had many crushes in my lifetime, and the ones that reach beyond the actors and Olympic gymnasts I will never meet are typically people I have very little chance with. This doesn't necessarily mean that they are simply men with Adonis-bodies who don't notice anything that can't curl 75-lbs minimum. Sometimes it's just a guy... A nice guy, an aloof guy, a cute guy... A guy you just think you hear a "click" when near.

But, for whatever reason, they aren't on the same page. You are reading from the back of the book, they're reading from the beginning. You know the end is all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, they are still hoping the next page has Prince Charming... Complete with dimples, white teeth and perfection. You keep wanting them, however, because you want the impossible to occur in your life's novel.

What's funny is, I can't really complain about this. Yes, I've found myself on the brunt end of some non-existent romantic entanglements, but I have caused the angst, as well. Guys have liked me, and I've let them down easy... or worse, just stalled them off. It all sucks. There's no eloquent way to put it.

It sucks because no one is wrong. No one is at fault. Feelings are feelings are feelings. You either have them or you don't.

At some point, though, you look back and see the trail of uneven connections. You wonder if that middle ground will ever be something you achieve. You remind yourself of your youth, your charm, your smile, your promise... but at some point you have to realize that isn't how it is done.

Connections are about meeting in the middle; that we have established. The real secret I think I am learning, though, is that you are the middle ground.

You aren't waiting to meet someone in the middle of the book. You are in the middle of your own story, and it's up to the right person, or people really... because life doesn't end or begin with romance, to pop up in the prose. If they are off looking in another tale, that's there business. If you don't see their place in yours, that is up for you to decide.

No matter how much control unrequited feelings seem to relinquish from us, we are still the author. It's up to keep writing.

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