MaryB and the City

Love is patient.

Every single one of us possesses an achilles’ heel. Evidently, mine is accepting that my grandoise master plan concocted in my subconscious hasn’t come to fruition.

The older and wiser I get, the more I realize and believe in the depth of my Being that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. That every single solitary part of my journey to date has a purpose; the good, bad and ugly.

Yet, even though I *know* this, sometimes, my silly ego with a poor memory forgets.

Like today, while on Facebook, I stumbled across professional photography of a couple {K & C} who recently gave birth to their first child. My computer mouse and I innocently scrolled through the delicious images and instantly got drunk on their love…which has expanded beyond just two individuals in a romantic relationship. Now, they know what love beyond reason is. They created a human life, together.

My mind took an unexpected detour and suddenly transitioned into a time machine; I am sitting at Mr. Big’s dining room table in or around 2005/06 {I told you my memory stinks}. Mr. Big and C are in the kitchen cooking, K and I are enjoying conversation over wine, waiting for our boyfriends to serve us their home cooked Valentine’s Day dinner. K is telling me about their plans to eventually move in together…and before long, the rest was history.

That basic story composition has been regurgitated dozens of times with other couples. It’s like watching the same movie, re-made over and over and over but with different actors/actresses. You know the beginning, middle and end. After a while, you wonder when you’ll be cast to play the lead part.

When I felt tears filling up in my eyes, partly because I’m so overjoyed for their joy, and partly because I have ‘future envy’ {why aren’t we there yet, or even half way there?} — once again, I gently remind myself:

Our journey had some detours. I hold onto hope that we’ll arrive ‘there’ too someday…

Wherever there is.

My story, my scripted plan laced in patience may still be in the editing room, but I don’t think I can hold on much longer to the table-for-one cliché.

A few weeks ago, Big and I hung out with another couple who had just celebrated their 6-year wedding anniversary. They know our entire history, and vice versa.

Me: I still can’t believe that she gave him an ultimatum to get married. I just couldn’t do it, not my style. Do you think he still would have proposed even if he didn’t have that declared cut-off date?

Big: Yes, he still would have proposed, maybe not when he did though.

Meanwhile, I’m reading and working on a review of the book, Blow Me. It’s authored by a smart, witty gal out of Los Angeles. Her literary work has been compared to Sex and the City…which had me at, Hello may I please have a copy? She is very active in the social media world and has a weekly column, Ask Lennie. I couldn’t help myself…so out of curiosity I emailed…and submitted a question.

I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that a fury of 20+ comments on her fan page plus another five on the web site were the result of such a controversial question.

How do you feel about women giving their man an ultimatum, like an engagement proposal deadline?

People vacillated between “absolutely not” to “hell to the yes.” I didn’t inquire because scripting a final proposition is something I’m considering, but because I truly find the dynamic fascinating. In my opinion, if your man doesn’t ask for your hand in marriage by {insert appropriate time based on your personal situation} then you either have an honest conversation about intentions, and/or you exit stage left.

As the brilliant Steve Jobs said, “You have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever.”

I trust that our time will come. I trust in love.