Somewhere in this world, there is a woman who wonders tonight where I am. There’s a woman who wants me and needs me and is willing to choose to be my wife. Somewhere tonight, there is this woman who I will want and need just as much as she wants and needs me.
I’m certain of that.
I no longer know her name. I no longer know what she looks like. She presumably doesn’t know I exist and I don’t know she exists. But I know she’s out there — and I know she’s looking for me.
It’s been almost six years since I’ve actively searched for a partner. I’ve gone out with some women over the past few years, but it was halfhearted. I don’t recall going out with any of them for a second time, except for the one who pursued me enough that we dated for an unhappy four months.
This week has been the first time in nearly six years that I’ve resumed an active search for someone new. The only thing I can be sure of is that the woman I met for dinner Wednesday evening wasn’t the right one.

My bad teen poetry suggests I’ve always hungered for missing love
Each loss makes me feel grateful for the irreplaceable ones I love
Could we stop being disappointed by just understanding each other?
Love & Hope — Episode 14:
As I grow and learn, I have to leave more of my ideas behind
No ebooks for me: Reading is about more than simply absorbing data
Our need for love lets us ignore past pain and feel hope instead