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Can Miss Independent meet Mr Right?
First, I want to say you are welcome. You will have Kelly Clarkson stuck in your head all day long now :)
I want to start out letting you know that I am single and not necessarily looking. I am a busy, way too ambitious 22-year-old who hogs the blanket. I am over-caffienated, wide-eyed, and definitely not ready to settle into any part of my life.
I like feeling free. I like knowing that I don’t know and that nothing in my life is set in stone. I can go wherever life takes me. I’m a newly-grad as of last Sunday and I am finally “free.”
So what does that mean? What are my next milestones in life? Get married. Buy a house. Have children. I don’t see ANY of those in my near future. I know that in the future, not sure when, but way in the future, I want these things. But don’t hold your breathe, its not anytime soon.
What about other milestones? If I were to make a list of the things I wanted to do and try and see and feel, it would be miles long. I want to do everything. I want to travel to countries and cities I’ve never had a second thought of. I want to dance in a music video. I want to sing for people. I want become a great speaker. I want to write a book. I want to host an entertainment news show and talk about celebrity gossip and fashion and other pointless things. I want to create an app for runners-particularly female runners- that allows people to feel safe when running in wooded areas. I want to do things I don’t even know I want to do.
I have already begun each of these things to some extent. Some I have only taken the first of hundreds of steps. Some I have dabbled in, but will never really have an end.
Let me tell you, wanting everything keeps a person busy. It keeps me independent and driven, and helps me prioritize my time. Some might say it makes me selfish. Honestly, it sometimes gets kind of lonely.
Most of the time, I don’t think twice about doing things alone. If I want to accomplish certain things for myself, then only myself can do them. Its not a matter of wanting to fly solo all of the time, but having to in order to obtain the things I want.
I am constantly surrounded by people, so please don’t think I am not. I have a wonderful family and a small group of great friends that ensure that I am not “lonely.” But this post is about Mr Right.
So lets get to the good stuff already! The Oreo filling :) To put things bluntly, I get nervous that this independence means a solo life. A life without Mr Right or even Mr For-Awhile. This is a chosen lifestyle and one I am not opposed to. But in the fantasy-land that consumes my daydreams, there is a Mr Perfect that is just as crazy and just as busy and just as capable as I am. In this fantasy-land, Perfect and I work out but never lose sight of all of those crazy dreams and ambitions. We never settle. We may even conjure up new crazy ideas and plans.
I am nervous because I am at that age that people around me are getting married. They post cute engagement pictures on Facebook or can’t hang out because its date night or they can hang out but must bring BF along.
I am scared that I am too picky. That I never get excited about anyone anymore because they aren’t crazy enough for me (yep, I said that.) I am scared that even if I DO have feelings for someone, those feelings will get in the way of my dreams. That they will stop me from living the way I want to. Heaven forbid they make me settle! AHhhhh!
I say this because this has happened before. I have one extreme or the other when it comes to the relationship chapter of my life. Either I fall so madly, deeply in like or love or whatever that my vision is clouded and I only think about that. Or, I could care less about dating in general. In that case, it would be handy to have a clean Mr Tonight.
Part of me envies the people, guys and girls, who can constantly find a connection with someone else. People that are always seeing someone and seemingly enjoy their time with that other person. They are never alone. I know some very beautiful girls who can be described this way and a couple exes who can.
I am not writing this because I want to need to date. In fact, I am having a wonderful time spending my nights with my family watching stupid movies and talking about basketball or going out with my gorgeous group of girls and feeling like we own the city. In my free time, I don’t want to jam each second with awkward dates and men who like me because I am a Timberwolves Dancer or because I am the only single friend available.
If I were to go on a date, even a date that didn’t warrant a second, I want it to be with someone who appreciates life and experience. So I ask you readers this- can Miss Independent find Mr. Right? What are your thoughts?
Footprints charm from my mama. Bringing me back down to Earth after a stressful morning. ❤
DUKE
Who knew a pet could mean so much? Who knew you could become so attached to someone that never spoke a word to you? Who knew that someone who wasn’t even human, didn’t talk, and couldn’t relate to me could leave this earth and create the largest void of my life to this point?
Who knew?
My golden retriever, Duke, was a love in my life. A true love. An unselfish love. He was a constant in my life that compared to no other.
Whenever I was home, he was there. I was never alone in this big, barren house out in the middle nowhere. He made sure I knew he was here with me.
He was hyper, sometimes too hyper! He would jump on you when you walked, breathing heavily and “sneezing”. Yes, sneezing! If you were my dad, he would bare his teeth in addition to jumping and breathing and sneezing. Multi-tasking at its finest.
Duke had plenty of other quirks. He liked it when you pet his paw. His belly too, but mostly his paw. When we left the house, he would steal loaves of bread off of the counter-top and drag them down into his basement kennel. He liked to sniff the cracks in the driveway. He would tilt his handsome head in confusion at the way the grass rose after you would walk across it.
He was HORRIBLE at playing catch. He’d bring his squeaky tennis ball or stick or slimy red ball to you, just like any other dog. But Duke was not any other dog. His game was different. He’d keep the ball or stick in his mouth, and your job was to get it out. And when you finally got it, you threw it. When he caught it or found the ball, he would again keep the it for the tug of war.
Duke wasn’t much better at snuggling. He only wanted to sit or lay near you if he got a paw or belly rub out of it. Typical guy. Every once in awhile though, if I was sad and needed a warm body close, he knew and was by my side.
He was great at making you feel wanted. Making you feel like someone was there listening to your every word. He had a presence, a warm, positive presence that you could feel without him making a sound. Yes he was a pet, but he had a personality all his own. The energy emitting from him was happy, positive, and loving. It was infectious.
I will never forget the phone call that told me he was sick. My sister had called and texted me, insisting I call my mother. I was sitting on the airplane waiting for take-off on my way home from New York City. She answered my call and told me Duke had lymphoma. I am not much of a crier these days (I used to be a waterfall!), but the tears fell with no hesitation.
Even as he got more and more sick, you could still see that personality. His jumps stopped and his bread-stealing stopped, but that quirky, attention-seeking, loving Duke was still there. Lymphoma is a fast killer for the most part. The vets said he would be gone in around two weeks. He fought the cancer for two whole months!
The hardest day of my life was Sunday, March 10th. That morning, he had tried to “play catch” with me for the first time in a month. That afternoon, we had to bring him in. We had to let our handsome guy go.
I think he knew. Dog’s just have that sixth sense that we don’t have. I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation and selfishly was not ready to let go. Even if it was for the best. We sat in that vet room with butterflies in our stomachs, tears in eyes, and a hole in our hearts. My mother, my father, my brother Alex and I were a mess of tears and sobs. When it was time, the vet grabbed a jar of treats from the desk. Duke did his best to get his nose inside the jar, knocking it over and spilling the treats right into his mouth. A great last moment and completely typical Duke reaction. She injected the medicine and within ten seconds my golden boy was at peace.
I haven’t cried that hard for something in my entire life. Not at any funeral, not for any break-up or failed attempt or missed opportunity. I watched my dog fall into eternal sleep, and even though I would not have changed that moment for the world, it was the most emotionally draining moment I have experienced to date.
I miss my Duke. More than I ever thought I would miss a pet. I loved him like he was any other important human in my life. He grew up with me. He was important to me. He was an addition to my family, a piece in the puzzle, and a part of me in way only a pet can be.
I love you Duke. Rest in peace, my pet.
