Middle child. Middle of a project. Middle of the bed. Middle of the pack.
Sometimes it seems like I am always stuck in the middle. Especially the middle of the pack thing. I’m looking for someone like me. Not too young, not too old. You know, middle of the pack.
I have many friends of the male variety. Just not the right one.
One is too old and set in his ways. Old fashioned. Stubborn as a mule. But gentlemanly and always sending cards and presents. Lives 4 hours away.
One is too young and still searching for what he wants out of life. Also stubborn as a mule. Gentlemanly in some ways, but not very thoughtful in many ways. Lives 4 miles away.
Both I consider friends. Each one offers something different in their friendship. One comes with history and the possibility of a future. One comes with deep conversation and sharing of souls and secrets and probably a lifelong friendship.
One is not better or worse than the other. Each has different strengths and weaknesses. But, that old saying, the grass is always greener on the other side? Damn they’re right. At least, that’s what the mind thinks.
The mind can never choose one or the other and be satisfied. The mind always searches for something better. The mind does not want to settle for less than the best.
Just what is the best? A best friend? A best mate? Hopefully both in one person?
If I could meld the two together, I could have a life long mate, and a best friend. I thought I had it before, but I lost it. I am jealous of those that find it, and keep it and nurture it. I keep thinking, I can find it, I can do it again. Then I think, naw, too much trouble, too much heartache involved.
Person. Not dog or cat. Person. That is the scary part. The dogs and cats don’t leave you willingly. A person can, and does. That’s the heartache part. Persons make it personal. So many people say they would rather have loved and lost, then never have loved at all. I’m not so sure about that. I won’t even get another dog because the loss is too great and tears me apart. I don’t think I could stand to lose another person.
But I have to try. I have many friends, very good friends, but we all need someone to love us and protect us and grow old with us. We need to be someone’s Numero Uno. The person we think of first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. The person who makes us a better person. The person who makes you laugh, cry, and most of all, makes you happy.
Now where the hell did that blind guy go?