Got Love?

Friends,

It's spring time, and spring time means romance. I feel like I've been living under a rock. Oh wait, ok, time out.

This is not going to be another blog about pursuing my goals and consistent ruminations about taking over the world and filling it with hugs and ice cream.

One of my friends called me out recently, because she noticed that I've gone completely balls-to-the-walls with work. I justify my actions by saying that we're approaching a very important primary, and we seek to kick some dust under a few household names and shake things up in Harrisburg. This election is a big deal for me. It's my first campaign. All of this is very true, and I work every single day. I love what I do.

There are some things that have proved a bit challenging, though. When I think about my ex boyfriend, I work. When I think about the guy that I wish I were dating, and how he's great, but for someone else, I work. When I am approached by guys that I find repulsive, I work. When I like a guy and I think he may actually like me, I work.

I've used this whole working thing as a poor excuse for being anti-social and really dumping that whole notion of "falling in love" into the garbage disposal with the banana peels. The truth is I really don't think it's going to happen. Now, listen, this isn't a pity party by any means. MSNBC and CNN tell me at least once a month that since I am a black woman with a degree, I am less likely to find a man that will relate to me, and I will likely "date down" because the options are slim. Then there are the guys that I should like, but the spark isn't there. Like the guys that are decades older than me, people with a bigillion children, people who've never left their street corner, or cannot text a complete sentence. Ugh. I would like to know what I did in my last life to deserve this.

I think it's also the fact that this is the first time that I have been single for well over a year since I was 18 years old. I'm not lonely, but I have to say that I don't appreciate the fact that everyone's settled with their honeys, the engagements, the babies, the promise of that happily ever after thing that I wanted for so long. I believe in it - for others.

That's probably because it isn't what God placed me here to do. So I work. And I don't talk about it. And I pretend to care when there's a new flavor of the month or week or for however long that I'm interested before I am completely repulsed and disappointed. Picky? I don't know. I would say that I give people a fair shake. And then there is a part of me that now knows when my spirit simply cannot take another person. And usually, I regret that initial gut feeling when I don't listen to myself.

Anyway, there's also that danger of dating someone at work. People in politics know things even when they don't say anything, people watch, even when they pretend that they're not. Even if you're convinced that they aren't. Everyone knows everyone.

I hate dating. The concept was clearly a man's idea.