I. Met. Someone.



You may remember I got my heart broken.

You may then remember there was a guy, The Voice. He was there and I was there and we weren’t looking for a “thing” but we wanted some companionship but only when it suited and emotions never suited so it was business, strictly business…er, not in a money exchanged hands way, though. But that was fine. That was all I wanted because relationships = bad and labels = bad and marriage = stupid and all those things I thought I wanted, once upon a time, were silly.

Then you may remember the psychic and the dark object and my revelation that I was getting in my own way.

So then, remember, I got that message from the heart breaker and we met and it was nice.

Okay…now that we are all caught up…

Let’s go back to how nice it was to be apologized to for wrongs done. At the time, I didn’t know how nice or what it would all mean but that’s the way of it…things happen as they will when they will and we see the lesson when we are ready because that is how life works…

The apology crept inside to the bitter, fractured pieces of my heart that I allowed to ooze poison and it drew out the venom, I knew I’d been keeping myself from being open. Not only do I NOT think that relationships are bad, labels are bad, and marriage is stupid…they are the only things that I think this life is worth living for. They are the only things that I have ever thought this life was worth living for. Judge me how you will for thinking love is the thing we should all strive for but it is the truth. At the very least, it is my truth.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a strong, independent woman. I can, and have for a very long time, take(n) care for myself. But without someone to share life with, it just all seems so sad and hopeless.

Sad and hopeless have been done. I am ready to move on.

I looked around and took stock and realized, I had the dreaded feelings for The Voice but that was simply not going to do. In the words of Barney Beagle:

“He is not my boy. Anyone can see that!”

… … …

Caroline, let’s get dressed up and go out! I’m ready to meet people!

So, er, where do people go?

We realized that we didn’t know where to go because we are not people, we are homebodies. I don’t do clubs, I do rock gyms and dog parks and I certainly don’t need to look cute to go there.

Because I am one damn sexy climber

While nibbling on a delectable homemade pizza a few Thursdays ago the night found us…er, Caroline…creating a profile on Match.com.

No comments from the peanut gallery on the extra half-inch I claimed (Mary Jo, shut it!)


There, I said it. I went to Match.com and I begged the internet Gods to go forth and find me a man who met my qualifications (tall, athletic, intelligent, loves dogs). I’ve got all the time in the world to peruse and pick and choose and find someone who works for me. Why not? I’ve spent all this time doing it wrong anyway…

The next day at noon I got an e-mail from Matt.

That Sunday we met for lunch at 2pm at a local diner. We talked and smiled and laughed so hard we cried and at 7:30 we asked the waitress for dinner menus.


I met someone. A pretty great someone.

And if he turns out to not be the someone for me then I will be glad for my 6-month membership and my openness to finding my match.