Chasing the Horizon

Oy. What a week. Followed by a… weekend.

Emotional swings. Highs, lows, and everything in between. And somewhere in the middle of all that, a realization I keep coming back to: We are… kind of fucked up when it comes to relationships.

Everyone’s looking for the same thing. Our person. The one who shows up. The one who doesn’t crush your spirit, doesn’t consume your time, doesn’t ask you to trade your autonomy for the illusion of security. We all want some version of that.

And yet… nobody seems to find it.

So here I am again. Back on a dating app. Something that used to happen every couple of years. Now it’s every year. Like clockwork. Like I forget the lesson just long enough to try again.

Because I’m still looking.

Not for someone to merge lives with. Not for control. Not for obligation. Just… someone to have each other’s backs. Someone you can be real with. Someone you don’t have to perform for. Someone who sees you, knows you, and chooses to be there when they’re there.

It’s not about sex. It’s about intimacy.

And I can’t seem to find that.

What I can find? Friends.

And look, that’s great. Truly. But I’m not on a friend app. I already have friends. Good ones. More than I have time for, honestly.

That’s the part no one talks about.

I get two days off a week. Just like most people. I leave the house at six in the morning, get home around six at night, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat. Those two days? They’re not excess. They’re not casual. They’re everything.

So when I give you my time, understand what that means. It’s not casual. It’s not filler. It’s a choice. It’s me saying: you matter. And I don’t give that away lightly.

Maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe everyone’s lonely… and nobody’s honest about it.

I met someone recently. Really cool. She got it. She understood the importance of today. Of being present. Of actually living in the moment instead of waiting for some future version of life to show up.

And yeah… I liked her. A lot.

But I’ve been alone too long. Lonely too long. And I came in a little hot. Tried to make plans. Tried to carve out time. Tried to get to know her.

And it scared her.

She’s just coming out of a relationship. One where her time was controlled. Managed. Taken. So what I saw as interest… she felt as pressure.

That one stung.

Not because she was wrong. She wasn’t. But because my intent wasn’t what she experienced. I wasn’t trying to control anything. I wasn’t trying to rush anything. I just wanted more time with her.

That’s it.

She said she told me all of that on date number two. I honestly don’t remember. I’ll blame the TBI for that one. My memory’s still not perfect. But the reality doesn’t change. We met on a dating app. Not a friend app. And I’m not looking for casual. I’m not looking for control. I’m not looking for something shallow or transactional.

I’m looking for connection. Real connection.

And yeah… that one hurt a little.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m just going to be single forever.

Maybe that’s the trade. Maybe that’s the cost of choosing this path. Writing. Feeling everything. Processing it. Turning it into something. My stories have gotten better. A lot better. Especially after everything I went through during recovery. Betrayal has a way of sharpening your voice.

But maybe that clarity comes at a price. Maybe this is it.

Because right now? All I want to do is pack a bag, swing a leg over my bike, and disappear.

Head west. Then north. Then east. Then south.

No destination. No plan. Just chase the horizon.

Ride all day. Write at night. Wake up somewhere new and do it again.

There’s a kind of peace in that. A kind of honesty.

And tonight? That sounds better than anything else.