“So, can I drive like this?” I asked, speaking to the blurry receptionist as I blindly scribbled my signature on the receipt.
“Sure, you should be fine!” she replied chirpily. Leaning down, the brunette reached into a box and pulled out a roll of… what is that? “Here, just put these on behind your glasses and it will keep the light from hitting your eyes too harshly.”
I accepted the roll of… film? then unrolled it. It was a thick-ish plastic in the shape of glasses, tinted like sunglasses. Ahhh, I see.
Or rather, I can’t see, I chuckled self-consciously as I fit the plastic into place behind my lenses.
“How long till the dilators wear off?” I asked, blinking against the blur for the hundredth time.
“About half an hour.”
I checked my phone. It had been 30 minutes already… “Maybe I shouldn’t drive…”
“You should be fine to drive. You should still be able to see things far away just not things up close.” She continued, nodding as she spoke.
Too bad, my distance vision sucked. Guess GPS was out of the question.
I stuffed my credit card into my phone wallet. “Thanks!” I said carefully stepped away from the counter. “Have a wonderful holiday!” I blurted out, reaching half-blindly for the doorknob and nodding absently as she responded.
I made my way down the hallway, wondering if it was normal to feel slightly off balance. Equilibrium restored itself by the time I reached the elevator.
I considered the stairs, then nixed that idea immediately. I could barely see the stairs on a good day!
In the parking lot, I sat in my car, debating waiting or going. After a few minutes of deliberation, I started the car and drove off.
And I Ain’t Got a Clue
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m going through my life with dilators dripping into my eyes. Somethings are so laser focused, while other things I’m just tripping blindly, blinking frantically, reaching out to something I can’t see much less touch.
When it comes to the career, crystal clear.
When it comes to personal stuff, about me stuff, emotional intelligence stuff, just give me a white cane and a seeing-eye dog cuz I’m fucked.
And while everyone around me lines up before the almighty altar and says “I do”, people keep asking me if I’m dating, am I married yet, or if I’m single.
I don’t find it offensive. More surprising because I usually don’t remember to think about that stuff till someone asks.
This blurry land of dating and finding partnership is just strange to me. I didn’t understand why anyone wanted to date anyone until about 4 years ago, that’s how disconnected I can be.
Now I’m awake, with my eyes wide open… and I’m seeing a big fat zilch.
I focus on other things, like eating properly, going inside the gym instead of walking by, trying out new cafes and restaurants, reading new books and developing into a better self
Am I the only one who finds boy/girl/partner hunting to be distracting? Probably. To be fair, I’ll probably bump into someone who makes my pupils dilate, and my mouth drool, and my legs wobbly – that’s totally likely and absolutely fine.
But until then, I’ll probably be… doing other things.
In the distance, I see myself with someone special who treasures me like I treasure them. Someone who loves me for who I am just as I love them for being their awesome selves. We compromise and agree where it matters, we align in critical values and goals, and we understand and value each others’ love languages. Ideally, the sex will be spectacular and the special moments will light brighter than fireworks in the night. Ideally there would not be heartbreak or pain, and if there was, we would navigate through it to a better tomorrow.
But who knows? The distance may be crystal clear, but the here and now is blurry and all distorted.
I see people around me jumping into the dating pool, some with spectacular splashes, other dipping in their toes, others sinking in the deep end without a life-raft and others floating side by side. The good, the bad and the ugly.
I just don’t see a need or reason to jump in.
Love is about finding someone and combining your two whole pieces together to double the joy. So often, I see folks bringing a half of their heart, and a ton of baggage, to try and make 1 whole heart.
But that doesn’t work. It takes at least 1 whole heart in the beginning and a hefty dose of selflessness to make it work. Because love isn’t about getting, it’s about giving.
And sometimes you give till it hurts and you give until you’re all out. And it doesn’t work.
Can you stand alone? Can you be yourself without being defined by another?
I don’t know, honestly. So I’m doing the stand alone thing for now.
Maybe it will be like that day in the cafeteria, standing by myself, lost in my thoughts and writing poetry scribbles in my spiral-bound notebook. Maybe I’ll notice the shadow across my page, and I’ll look up into eyes so crystal clear that I’ll be speechless. Maybe, just maybe, someone will sit down next to me and smile and speak to me and I will recognize the words behind the words, recognize the connection beyond the moment, and scrape up a response.
And maybe, they will be a prince rather than a frog.