Recently I spent an entire afternoon sitting in the middle of my back yard soaking in a glorious sunny fall day with my best friend. Our families spend a decent amount of time together but what dawned on me as she picked each blade of dead grass out of my lawn, one. by. one., was that it had been a very long time since we had spent time just her and I. How did that happen? And so it was that we were way deep and mushy and life-analize-y that lovely afternoon. And it was good. So very very good. And as she drove away that evening I felt light. I was overflowing with contented sighs.
BUT... There's always a fucking but with me isn't there?
A little back story: My bestie - who doesn't have a Sassy moniker? Hmm, I think I need to fix that! - Works for my mother at Cowtown U. Thus, they spend a lot of time together. A lot of time talking. Sometimes about me.
On that gorgeous afternoon I discovered that my mother doesn't think I'm actually ready for a relationship. I was shocked. I mean, I guess I shouldn't have been. Since the demise of my relationship with SM, she has been telling me "there's no rush" and "you need to take your time" and "just be friends, it doesn't have to be anything more than that."
I'm not sure how I feel about this. I thought I was ready. I didn't feel not ready. I wasn't desperate to find something NOW, OMG NOW, I CANNOT BE ALONE! But I thought I was actively looking for something real - something dependable and constant. True, I have been stuck in this odd serial dating cycle that I can't seem to find a man willing to step out of with me. And I had been enjoying the nights out and the good company...
So I have to wonder - Does Momma truly know best?