Page 2 of Lonely Heart

Between working and the perpetual state of celebrating with my family for birthdays and holidays, my personal time had been limited and lonely.

So, I took matters into my own hands and put myself out there.

For almost a year, I had been doing things to meet new people. I’d taken up rock climbing and golfing, neither of which I’d particularly enjoyed, and quickly stopped.

Then I switched to taking classes. I’d taken so many classes and developed so many new skills, I wasn’t sure there was much I hadn’t tried yet. Photography, pottery, dance, musical instruments, and calligraphy. I’d even taken a handful of balloon-twisting classes, which had been quite the experience.

Of those classes, the musical instruments class was the only one I’d continued. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because I’d met a man that I was attracted to and couldn’t wait to see each week. Instead, I found I enjoyed learning to play the piano.

And while I liked the dance classes, partly because they were taught by my best friend and partly because I always enjoyed dancing, I hadn’t encountered many men there. The same was the case with the pottery and calligraphy. Photography had more men, but nobody had ever asked me out on a date, even the ones that I thought might have been interested. It was almost like as soon as they got my name and learned I was a Westwood, they suddenly backed off.

Of course, the Westwood family was well known in Landing, Pennsylvania. My family’s name used to be something I thought would only ever be a benefit to me. When it came to dating, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

I sighed just thinking about all I’d done over the last year just to find a connection with a single person, telling myself that the next thing, the next class, would be it.

Smiles and hugs and laughter were all around me. Several hundred people stuffed into this massive ballroom and not one of them was mine.

If there was anyone who could understand the abject loneliness I felt, it was the one guy my eyes settled on in the middle of surveying the room.

Liam.

My younger brother.

Maybe he and I were destined to be alone forever.

At least he’d felt it once before, though. At least he’d gotten to experience that all-consuming love. The most I’d gotten was a boyfriend in high school that was the utter definition of puppy love, and another during my first year of college, which hadn’t been anything that swept me off my feet.

I wanted more.

Feeling so defeated, understanding this was the last place I needed to be if I didn’t want to spiral even further into the depths of despair, I turned and moved toward the exit. My tired legs carried me, with my aching hollow chest, away from the fun and laughter, away to be alone again.

This was a new year.

Would it be better to accept I’d tried all I could and forget about finding something special? Or should I go home and come up with a new plan?

I’d always been determined, always been willing to go above and beyond to get what I wanted. Could I really give up now?

Deep down, I didn’t want to. I had seen far too many successful relationships around me. I’d witnessed what each person in those relationships experienced as a result. I’d be a fool not to want that for myself.

For tonight, I guess I’d just have to accept it hadn’t happened yet. I’d allow myself to feel the sadness and despair.

But I wouldn’t resign myself to this fate forever.

Tomorrow, I’d wake up and start all over again. I’d do something to figure it out. And maybe, just maybe, I’d get lucky and would be able to spend the next New Year’s Eve celebration in the arms of a man who adored me.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Stop fighting me. You’re only going to make it worse foryourself.”

That command went unacknowledged, because I was too consumed by terror.

The stinging in my cheek paled in comparison to the pain in my chest and lungs.

My heart raced as I found strength somewhere inside me to fight back, to save myself from this.

Despite telling myself I’d wake up on January 1stprepared to take on the world in an effort to find my happy ending, it didn’t happen.

The renewed sense of determination didn’t hit me until about a week later.

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