When he laughs it’s quiet — almost like a sigh. I, on the other hand kind of…well, guffaw. Yeah. I guffaw.
I have a great friend who was married in April. She’s not my best friend and we actually haven’t been through enough for her to be one of my greatest friends. I call her a great friend because she’s great. We are becoming better friends and I definitely love her dearly.
Luckily for me I love her husband as well. They are certainly on my list of favorite couples.
I got to their wedding late. It was in Belle Fourche and I honestly didn’t know how long it would take to get there. So I stood in the back watching their nuptials. I was happy to be back there — separated from the rest of the people watching.
There wasn’t a person next to me who could possibly see — or even maybe feel — my confusion and pain during the ceremony. Don’t get me wrong. There was joy too. But the primary thing going on in my mind was, “How does this happen?”
How do people fall in love?
How do they decide to become one?
I even wondered briefly, “Why not me? Never me.”
It’s all this intense mystery. It’s so intensely mysterious in fact that people who have experienced it can’t even really explain it — at least they can’t explain it to me.
Shortly after their wedding I went on several dates with several different guys. It didn’t work out. These guys were just desperate for a woman — any woman. Which, of course, I don’t understand. How can a person not be specific about what they want in a partner?
When I was out on a date with one such fella, I realized that I could have a boyfriend. He would be my boyfriend. In fact he seemed to want to get married and have babies so badly that I probably could have eventually married him.
So, I panicked.
I never called him back. I even decided to give up. Really give up. Like no boys. No phone calls, no e-mails, no more dates. I’m too fat and to lazy and too busy to really bother with a boyfriend. I don’t want to have to call a guy every other day. I don’t want to have to always do my make up and keep my apartment clean enough for strangers to see it.
But mostly, I don’t want to have to think about what it might be about me that keeps me from fitting with another person.
So, of course now there are guys everywhere.
Three strangers have e-mailed me almost every day since then. And it brings up questions I don’t want to deal with. Mostly I wonder, “How? How do most people end up finding someone to love?”
What fits? What makes someone decide it’s a misfit? I don’t want to get a crush on another guy who will reject me. I don’t want another unremarkable guy to try to date me.
You know, when he laughs it’s kind of like a sigh. And I guffaw — how does that fit?