Cinderella Story

I realized something the other day when I was talking to a friend in the UK over Skype.

I'm lonely and the black dog is waiting in the back garden, just waiting for his chance to get inside; a crack in the door, an open window.

There has been a sequence of events that have led me to this conclusion.

The first being; the embracement of the animal welfare movement. While I've always been pro-animal rights, I've not felt strongly enough about anything to get involved, to march or protest. Once I'd got involved I met some lovely people with a healthy need to help our four legged friends, others with a not so healthy need to help bordering on obsessive. This led my Facebook wall being inundated with invitations, calls to foster, videos that made me ball my eyes out and mild abuse for sharing and consequently, not sharing. I culled my friends list.

Not before the Millie incident though.

I came to the conclusion from that, that one small dog with very few needs (except snuggles) is all I need and can handle on the canine front. Going out to work five day a week leaves little room for a dog with separation anxiety issues.

Knowing this, I found I could help dogs find homes by taking pictures for the rescue groups, but this meant going to the pound. And they don't just have dogs at the pound.

I find myself poopy scooping for five cats at the moment. I fostered four, adopted one. because I went to the pound. Don't get me wrong I'm glad to do my bit to help these creatures find worthy homes but I now know, I acknowledge, I did it because I'm lonely and I was looking to fill that void in my heart.

I’m lacking the companionship that comes with being in a relationship. While a little nookie would be nice, it’s the other more mundane activities that it would nice to share. Digging the garden, having someone hold the ladder while i change the light bulbs, going to the movies, wandering around, going for a drive or sharing a meal. The simple everyday things.

Most of my friends are loved up, in relationships with kids. The one person I’d dearly love to spend that quality everyday time with lives on a different continent and shows no signs of moving back to Australia anytime soon. I’ve been hanging out for that to happen for a couple of years now, unable to move on due the feelings I have. Deep feelings that go to the very core of me. The other day I felt those feelings lessen. I’m not sure what was said, what’s been done or not done that has caused this, but the heart strings are being tugged just a little less.

I’ve tried to date over that time in an attempt not to wait, but I always find myself looking across the table, looking at my date and thinking, ‘but you’re not Mr. Right’. I had thought I’d found Mr Right, but maybe I was wrong. I find dating hard as most of my friends are attached and rarely go out, internet dating has proved to be a bust (do I smell, even online) and I find as soon as Aussie men find out I’m well educated and reasonably successful in my chosen field they run as far as their tatty trainers will carry them.

Maybe I have found Mr. Right, but the human desire for companionship is getting the better of me. Driving me forward after not seeing him for nearly a year. Driving me into the arms of another (when I find another). But would it be unfair to the other? I’ve never found anyone that fills the shoes of Mr. Right in quite the same way. They just don’t fit.

This is my dilemma. I’m lonely beyond belief but I find myself snuggling at home amongst the furkids hoping that one day, my prince will turn up and slip his foot into a perfect fitting shoe.