Page 3 of Blank Canvas

Cora sucks in a breath and looks to me for confirmation. “Did you feel that?” I nod but don’t answer, too scared my voice will be sandpaper. “Girl is one tough cookie. She’ll exit the womb kicking her legs.”

Elizabeth and Autumn laugh. Of the small group of women in attendance, only two have experienced pregnancy and childbirth. Elizabeth, of course, and Autumn. Gavin’s mom didn’t fly out for the shower but will be in town a while once Clara joins the world. Erin, Penny, Peyton, and I sit in silent awe. Motherhood has never been big on my radar, but I don’t discount the idea. If the right person came into my life and our relationship became serious enough to travel down that path, the possibility of motherhood would be given merit.

But motherhood, let alone love, is such a distant reality in my life. Not intentionally. I love the idea of finding the one and falling in love. I love knowing, one day, I will have someone special at my side.

If anyone listens to my inner ramblings, go ahead and send him my way. Please.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” I say, then look to Autumn. “And your new addition too.”

Little Clara settles and Cora resumes opening gifts. We play strange baby shower games for hours. Tasting jars of baby food while blindfolded and trying to guess the flavor—which is disgusting, in case you were unaware. Guessing the number of candies in a baby bottle. Speed changing diapers on dolls while someone covers our eyes. Each game is equally fun and weird, and the laughter never lets up.

Once the games are done, we scope out the massive buffet of food.

Peyton—my soon-to-be sister-in-law—told her mom about the baby shower and Tracy insisted on catering the day. No complaints here. I file into line near the end, pick up a pink paper plate with “It’s a girl!” swirled in the center, and pile food onto my plate.

Being that it is Cora’s day, Tracy got a list of her favorite foods and things she steered away from while pregnant. Needless to say, much of the buffet has Asian flavors. A variety of vegetable sushi, rice noodle dishes, and spring rolls. But there are also macaroni and cheese balls, lettuce wraps, muffin-sized fruit tarts, and large trays with fresh vegetables, fruit, cheese, crackers, and dips.

Tracy is awesome in the kitchen and made enough to feed three times the people present. She also made two dozen chocolate cupcakes with white-and-pink frosting. No doubt we will all leave with tons of leftovers. Again, no complaints.

With Micah and Peyton’s wedding only three weeks away, I am eager to see what Tracy makes for her only daughter’s reception.

Another nail in my love life coffin… my brother is getting married. To the woman who crushed on him in high school. Who also happens to be the woman he bullied in high school. The entirety of their relationship leaves me baffled.

When Micah and Peyton started hanging out as acquaintances-slash-friends, I never expected it to go anywhere. Their history was a hot mess. Not only had my big brother been her high school bully, Micah had been burned by his one and only serious relationship. And Peyton was far from interested in finding love after past losses. As a romantic couple, they were wobbly and jagged. Destined to fall apart.

But they found a way to grow beyond the horrible parts of their past. Developed an irrefutable friendship. Then slowly, they fell in love. Their love story was rocky, but neither of them gave up. What they felt for each other superseded every obstacle thrown their way.

Is there anyone in my life Idon’tenvy?Someone send help. Please.

All I want is to findthe one.Have a boundless love that captivates me from the start. A love that makes you forget anything and anyone else exists. A love that consumes every molecule of air you breathe. That owns every beat of your heart. A love you would crumble without.

That’s not asking for too much, right? Wanting someone to look at me like I am the reason they breathe isn’t asking too much. Wanting someone to take hold of my hand and never let go isn’t asking too much. Not from where I stand. My friends have that type of love. It’s only fair I have it too.

Sure, my notion of love and romance and happily ever afters are skewed by the countless romance novels I read. So what? There is nothing wrong with a woman knowing what she wants. There is nothing wrong with setting emotional expectations. There is nothing wrong with wanting immeasurable love.

Could I have dated half the county by now? Sure. Plenty of men have flirted and let me know they were interested. And who knows, maybe I would have foundthe onehad I put myself out there more. Of the men I flirted with and casually dated, mythe-onealarm never rang. Not once was there a whirl in my belly. No instinctual voice to tell megive this one a chance.

Does this make me pathetic? Not in my eyes. Does this make me a sad excuse? Depends who you ask. But I would rather be single than exist in an unhappy relationship. I’d rather be single and sad than tied to a person and dismal. Period.

Most of the men I dated were nice. Gentleman. Never pushy or angry I didn’t give it up—which shocked me more than expected. The men in my everyday life—family and friends—are mixed bags in this department. That is, until they got hit by Cupid’s arrow and settled down. My brother was the worst of them all, but only because of how things went down with his ex. Can’t say I blame him.

Out of the inner circle, the original group—Cora, Micah, Jonas, Erin, and me—I never expected to be one of the last standing solo. The woman who preaches love and fate is one of the last to find it herself.

Erin has been dating on and off, but stays too focused on work for a relationship to stick. Leading a solo life doesn’t bother her. At least she gets out there and makes an effort, which is more than I can say for myself.

“You okay?” Cora parks in the chair next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’re quiet all of a sudden. Which is not you.”

I twist in my seat and smile at my best friend. Neither of our lives has been perfect. The years she and Gavin were apart were harsh and painful—for her and those of us who cared for either or both of them. All the nights I spent hugging my best friend and shushing her cries were tough. At the time, I didn’t understand her heartache. How losing Gavin caused her to cry for days and weeks and months. Couldn’t comprehend how her soul ripped in two at the loss of him.

And I still can’t.

Not because I have a cold heart or am numb to emotion. Simply put, I have yet to experience an all-encompassing love. A love that owns every piece of you. I also don’t know what it feels like to lose something so profound. To have your heart torn in two.

Instead of moping at her baby shower—one of the most joyous moments in her life—I should be giddy. The excited aunt showering my most loyal and lovable friend with pink frilly outfits and pacifiers and boxes of diapers. I should be hyping the party, not bringing it down.

Unfortunately, the small cynical part of me refuses to relinquish my selfishness. Refuses to spread false joy.

I take her hand in mine and meet her sincere, bright gaze. “I’ll be okay. Just in a funk.”

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