Here You Are

Prologue

I’m on the wrong side of my thirties and not where I thought I would be in life.

In my visions of the future, I would be married and have a few kids running around.

My husband and I would sit on the porch, watching our kids play, cleaning up messes, and exchanging grateful looks for the beautiful life we have built together.

Instead, I have a weird-ass old-lady neighbor who is my best friend and no long-term love interest in sight.

My kids are non-existent, but I do have a baby cow that lives outside my bedroom window.

I’ve kept journals my entire life as a way to quiet my ruminating thoughts.

Since I am lonely, bored, and apparently a glutton for punishment, I decided to go back and read them, hoping to figure out where everything went wrong.

What I expect to find is a long string of mediocre lovers with commitment issues.

What am I hoping to find? Maybe a pattern I can finally break.

Maybe some encouragement to step outside my carefully curated bubble.

Do I want my life to look a little different? Have a little more meaning? Absolutely.

Am I willing to leave the house? No. Or at least, not without compelling evidence that doing so will actually help.