Fighting for me

I ponder. . .  

Has my job gotten in the way of life?

I can’t concentrate on the tasks at hand.   I don’t care about Monday’s production shoot.  I don’t want to lead a 2-hour conference call tomorrow to discuss camera techniques, casting selects and product beauty shot close-ups.  I want to curl up and sleep away the black hole that has been physically present for 3 days now.

Why?

I’m buying a house.  By myself.  Alone.  Just me.  No one to fill the second bedroom.  No one to park a car in the garage next to mine.  No swings in the backyard for tots.  No neighbors to greet early in the morning for school carpools.  Just me.

Ten years ago I never thought I would be here.  I never thought my first house buying adventure would be handled with my own thoughts, prejudices and in differences regarding the size of a backyard, type of flooring or garage placement.  I never believed the mortgage payments would come out of my own checking account and not a joint account.  

I always thought I’d have someone to carry me across the front door threshold after receiving the key for the first time.

I know, it’s a bit of a pity party over here tonight.  I’ve got the world in my hands.  The friends others would die for.  A family that is so perfect is amazingly awesome.  Two dogs that rock more than you could ever imagine.  I’m truly blessed.  

I’ve always measured my life against those of my closest peers.  I read their blogs about their new daughter’s birth, the outfits they dressed their kids in for St. Paddy’s Day, the family vacations they take together.   

And I wonder when did I get left behind?

Did my career aspirations get in the away of my personal aspirations?  Are my career aspirations my personal aspirations?  When did everyone else move on and transition their lives between bar hopping 20-somethings to settled down 30-somethings?  When did I miss the train?  

Or did I?

I’ve been unsuccessful at relationships.  I’ve caught myself in some toxic ones that should never have happened.  Every single guy I’ve ever dated seriously has cheated on me.  Every. Single. One.  What does that say about me? 

As I sit here tonight, I reflect upon my past.  I’ve never had a guy truly fight for me.  Truly fight to keep me around.  Truly sacrifice his wants for the betterment of our wants.  Truly throw caution to the wind with me.  I’ve never found someone that would scour the ends of the earth to find me.   I wonder what that feels like.  To know that you have someone fighting for you.  Fighting for the two of you.  Fighting until the end.

So, here I am possibly weeks away from buying a house, alone.  I’ll throw my passion into fixing it up based on my likes.  I’ll debate paint colors till the wee hours of the morning . . . for me.  I’ll throw down wads of cash for new furniture . . . for me.  I’ll make no compromises.  I’ll acquiesce to no one.  I’ll will not have to convert a room to a man cave because he wants a 82-inch mumbo-jumbo-over-the-top-ridiculous-flat screen with surround sound.  Instead, I’ll cook dinner . . . for one.

And please don’t tell me that he’ll come when I least expect it. 

Or that I need to be patient. 

Or that I need to put myself out there more.

Just tell me to pick myself up by my bootstraps, because I will.  I always do.  And, I always seem to come out on top.