Missing piece

So, I started thinking last night about what I miss about having someone in my life. Of course I miss having someone to go to dinner or movies with, the traditional “date night” but there are also so many other things I miss about having someone around.

Running to the grocery late at night for just a couple things- its so nice to come out and see someone driving up to the curb to get you (not just anyone, but your someone…Note: I do not condone getting into cars with strangers, while it may have completely sounded that way)

The typical, “what’d they say” when you’re watching a show. Of course there’s always the rewind on the DVR, but sometimes I don’t want to fool with all of that, just having someone there who is paying a bit more attention than me.

Hugs. Hugs on a bad day. Hugs on a good day.

Someone to reassure you that you look fine, even when the muffin top is particularly protruding on your spring capri pants from last summer…. (yes, I had a moment this morning. The capri’s and I are not on speaking terms, they are balled up, in the corner, of my walk-in closet)

Someone to cook you dinner when you’re home from work late- since I am home from work late every night, I’m thinking of hiring a chef…. Or a good animal trainer to teach the cats how to cook. (kidding--- on both of those)

Someone to look at your tire when you get home from a 5 hour trip in the middle of the night and the tire gauge light has come on, on the dashboard. It has since turned off, I’ve done nothing, but I’m waiting for a blowout.

Someone to laugh with. Someone to talk with.

I know that parts of me are turning into the cat lady, who at 30, has conversations with her four-legged fur babies… but think about it, they don’t talk back. Sometimes that is appreciated more than others… Granted, they do kind of have masculine tendencies… most of the time, when talking to them, you’re talking to the back of their head- as they’re walking away.

I was cooking (lie- I was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich) the other day and I was staring into my living room…. I could almost picture my Prince Charming sitting out the couch, remote in hand, legs propped up on my footrest. Who is he? No idea… but he better not talk back either, or we’ll have a problem.