For the first time in a LONG time I have no potentials.  No one I’m dating.  No one I’m talking to.  No one.  It’s weird.  This is a new space for me.  And it’s been this way since February.  Being the serial dater I am (or at least used to be), it’s nothing for me to pick up the phone and call someone, or have someone call me, to go to dinner, catch a movie, see a play, whatever.   I wouldn’t say I crave attention from the opposite sex, but it’s nice to have.  Someone to flirt with.  Someone to hang out with.  Even if I knew the guy had no staying power, I can admit it was nice to feel attractive and wanted and to hang out with someone that wasn’t my homegirl.

Saturday night, after a fun-filled day of celebrating with friends at a housewarming, I got to my house and felt antsy.  It was still light out, was a gorgeous evening, and I didn’t want to spend another Saturday night at my house watching tv.  I had someone that I wanted to call, someone that no matter what I do I can’t get him out of my system.  And as much as my finger has been itching to dial his number, I have resisted the urge.  (YAY me!)  So, I called up two of my friends instead (really I called more but they were the ones that answered), and we headed out to enjoy dinner, cocktails, and cupcakes.  Of course, the conversation turned to how we were all single.  And how negroes ain’t ish (one of us just had a nasty break-up).  And we talked about how the craziest, meanest, rudest people always seem to find each other and stay together, while us nice folks finish last and keep meeting people who do us dirty. (To quote one of my friends, “The horrible people always seem to find each other.”) Even the young lady at the table next to ours chimed in her agreement.

But, at the end of the day, we all agreed that a man perfectly designed for each of us IS out there…and they are going to find us.  And even though we’ve experienced heartbreak, jerks, and a few lonely Saturday nights as of late, it’s not going to be that way forever.  Though I’m 30 something years old, I still have this fairy tale fantasy that the man for me is out there.  And he’s going to find me…while I’m still in my prime and can bear him some children after we walk down the aisle.

Until next time, I’m just a Southern girl…in the city.