A Meg Ryan/Sally Albright Moment

Some nights, I have trouble falling asleep. A lot of nights. And when that happens, my mind wanders through various, sometimes obscure, thoughts that flash through my brain. As I drift closer to sleep, the thoughts get more and more unusual.

So get this stream-of-consciousness: My friend, J, has a tradition with her siblings that when one of them turns 50, they go somewhere together for the weekend. In about a week, she's spending a weekend at her sister's house and they are getting spa services because it's her brother's birthday. I thought how fun that would be to relax and get pampered. Then I thought about how another friend who turns 50 this April. I won't name her, but her initials are MM. And she has red hair. I thought how fun it would be if we got a bunch of friends together to go to Hotel Hershey and get massages and drink wine and eat chocolate and shop and drink wine.  We should probably make reservations for April because they get booked. I thought about how it would be great to be surrounded by fun friends when I turn 50. And then I turned into Sally Albright.

***If you don't get the Meg Ryan/Sally Albright reference, please follow the next four steps immediately:
1. Turn off your computer.
2. Drive to the nearest Target or Walmart.
3. Buy "When Harry Met Sally...", some microwave popcorn and some Swedish red fish. You should already have some diet Coke at home.
4. Upon your return home, plant yourself with popcorn and candy in front of the TV, and watch the movie, paying special attention to the diner scene (I'll have what she's having) and when she finds out her previous boyfriend is getting married. You're welcome.

So it hit me. I'm going to be 50. In. SEVEN. YEARS. I know that is a long time from now, but it's out there. What if, when I turn 50, I'm still 'alone'. And by alone, I mean in a 7th-grader-who-is-afraid-she-will-never-have-a-boyfriend-kind of alone. I can't make this up. I started to think about how long I've lived by myself and how long I might continue to live by myself. It was a bit of a panic attack in the making.

The picture of me turning 50 without a significant relationship makes me uncomfortable. I know, I know- I have friends, a great life, so much to be thankful for, I've worked so hard to get where I am, I certainly wouldn't want to settle for just any relationship, blah, blah, blah. I can work so hard to achieve so many things in my life, why can't I achieve this one thing? My usual optimism was suddenly on hiatus. I've gone to so many events solo, what if that never changes? What if I'm so high maintenance that no one is willing to put up with me? I need to accept that I might never find a relationship or be married. It's a slow process to accept that. One that is best accompanied by ice cream. And more chick flicks.