When I tell people how long I’ve been single, they usually have a hard time believing it, because I have a lot going for me, in most areas of my life. Sometimes I even have a hard time believing it, so I’ll rage and complain bitterly to my God of True Love for awhile about the unfairness of it all, and cry to Him about how lonely I am. But then when I sit back and take a little inventory of the people I’ve dated over the past nine years since my divorce, I am not at all surprised that I am still single. And, in fact, I feel grateful that I did not compel myself to stay in a single one of those relationships. Because, you see, nobody I’ve dated or been with over those years has shown any interest in actually wanting to be my friend. Sure, they wanted to screw me. Sure, they wanted to project their fantasies onto me about who they wanted me to be. And sure, they wanted to talk and talk and talk at me forever, without really listening or caring about what it was that I wanted to say. But none of that is remotely the same thing as wanting to be my friend. A friend, by contrast, is someone who accepts you for exactly who you are, rather than what you can do for them — let alone who they’re fantasizing they want you to be. And a friend is someone who actually listens to what you have to say, rather than prioritizing their own self-expression to the point that they completely shut yours down. Despite my past experiences, though, I have a lot of hope for True Love to find me, in the future. Because I believe that True Love isn’t the idealized fantasy notion of love that most people think it is. True Love is when somebody loves the truth of who you are (and vice versa), so you both get to enjoy a relationship of true mutuality. I can’t wait to turn to this person someday, give them a hug, and tell them, thank you for being a friend. Which, when you think about it, probably means more than that thorny ol’ standby, I love you. ❤️‍🔥—Y.B.D.