Catching the California Wave

“Someday, when the time’s right, you’ll meet someone nice,” she said to me in placating tones, stroking my wild and tangled hair.

“You are so nice; you just haven’t met the right person,” she cooed, her wedding ring snagging its strands.

My heartbeat skipped, the bitter taste of bile in my throat.

“Yeah, maybe,” I apologized, “but I really don’t want to date right now.”

“Oh, of course you do! Everyone needs somebody!” 

A wail got caught in my throat, the words frozen on my lips.

I looked at my shoes. 

I need to find my voice, I wanted to scream. 

I need to stand up against those who measure a woman by the size of her thighs or the number of candles on her cake.

I need to learn that a text is not a declaration of love. 

I need to learn that a life overflowing with friends, family, purposeful work, and leisure is a work of art.  

I need to realize that I do not need to justify my actions or beliefs.

I need to stop chasing and let good fortune fall effortlessly into my full and gracious lap.

I need to expect more of men. 

I need to expect more of myself. 

I need to find deep reservoirs of happiness to temper the winds of dis-ease.

I need to learn the art of conversation, shared over cups of frothy lattes or chilled flutes of sparkling wine.

I need to honor myself as a goddess and comb the snarls from my hair. 

I lifted my gaze and looked into her cold, shining eyes.

“I guess you are right. Maybe someday someone special will come along.”