Deferring the Dream

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over--

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

--A Dream Deferred

Langston Hughes

As I start to write this I break down into tears. It was like any other day, actually better than most. Went to work, got there earlier than usual because it's a good habit I'm trying to build. Got a big project out of the way, and earned some comp time hours I can use later for some fun.

But on the way home, as I ran to catch the last bus of the day that I almost missed because I was caught up in my project. . .. I realized that this is it. I have a nice home, and a good job. Although I'm in more debt than I wish to be, I make enough money. I have friends who love me. To some I have it all.

But today I realized, deep down in the place that I don't access very much, that HE is probably not coming and that I'm really, really tired of wishing for HIM to arrive. Maybe I'll be one of those women who get married for the first time at 85 and make the cover of the local paper. But it's like the lottery . . . possible, but not probable.

And let me get it straight. I'm not one of those single women who is sitting here waiting for her Prince to to come save her from a feline filled spinsterhood, harboring hope chests full of linens, and notebooks full of plans for a wedding that rivals that of Lady Di's. I have a life.

But here's the rub. Although I have a life, I've saved a little part for HIM. When I'm hanging out doing what I do, I wish HE were there to share it with me. Or I imagine that HE is right around the corner on the verge of entering my life and changing it forever. But today, I don't believe he's coming any time soon. And my tears are not sadness, well, I suppose I am a little sad. But its mostly frustration. Because although I accept that I might be alone forever, like the lottery, I still buy a ticket now and then. I still haven't given up that dream that one day, I'll have that love that I want so bad.

So what do I do with this deferred dream? Right now, it is hanging around my neck like a heavy load. It is my burden. I am that statistic that so many news reports and magazine articles have covered lately. Educated, Black, over 40, single and childless. And lonely as hell.  I'm not advocating staying in a wrong relationship to avoid this feeling, but to quote Chris Rock. I understand.

Its funny, married people like to complain about being married. They like to look at my life and tell me how good I have it, because I travel, take fun classes, go to plays, and can be quite spontaneous. But what they don't realize is that I'm not single because I want to live a footloose life with no responsibilities. I live this life because it's a better alternative to sitting at home, alone like I am right now wishing I had someone to cook for in my newly remodeled kitchen. I don't have kids who need braces . . .so I go to Europe. But guess what, I'd rather be at the orthodontist.