Nobody's Coming

A thought tossed about by a dear friend and I as the approach of our fortieth year came more closely into focus. Not this tongue in cheek however.

A word to the women who won't admit it and don't want to get it, and who want to whine on about it.  From one who is tired of hearing about it. 

I am sorry to be the harbinger of bad news darlin’ but please understand this:  Nobody’s Comin’!

I tell you this as I I hope to save you a host of years of pining, whining and waiting - for something that ain’t ever gonna darken your door.  No matter how much you think it should, or no matter how bad you want it to be true.  It isn’t.  

If you don’t want to hear me well, that’s OK.  I’ll be the one standing over here watching as you keep movin’ on in your belief that what you want is just over the next bend.  That if you wait just five more minutes, the dust cloud from four galloping equine hoofs will become visible over the knoll.  I’ll be lookin’ on as you keep waiting for what isn’t there.  You go on and write your God forsaken four line stanzas about what you wish for most, on how your emptiness will soon be filled, how your feminine entitlement is on its way, and about how you are destined and soul-mated.  And I will laugh as I see you knowingly ignore the fact that your soul mate has long forgotten your name, along with that fated connection you swear was shared on one sunny lazy August day;  when you looked right into his soul and he looked off into the distance... as he emptied himself into you in one final grunting thrust.

Your mama lied girl.  Prince Charming lives...  but only between the pages of those pretty hard cover fairy tale books she read in order to get you to shut up and go to sleep.  Prince Charming isn’t real sweetie. 

So if you want flowers - go buy them your own damn self on your way home from that job you keep, which pays your bills... until he comes to save you.  I wouldn’t plan on quitting that job in the too near future missy.  I already told ya’, Nobody’s Coming.

Author's Note

.... something different I thought I would try.

Reviews

[Scott S]

I like your humor. As one reviewer has stated....there are some good guys out there, but I realize that you are not rejecting that notion with this piece. I took this piece as more of a wake-up-call for the women with a pie-in-the-sky attitude, who clearly don't get it. Does that make sense? Gosh, I hope so. :-)

I enjoy your writing, Shelley. There is much truth in it. Nice.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Thank you so much for your kind words. Thanks more for liking my writing 'cause well, I'm shallow and that means more. Yes you read the space between the lines well nicely. :)

[EMF]

Oh... b still my chortelling sides. Coll-Baby. One of our early morning harbingers of doom is wondering why I've just slid down the wall of my office (and I use the term very losely) laughing like a hyenea on crystal meth and just managing to restrain the urge to cry.
And you say you can't cook.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

I don't cook! Do not start rumors. Thank you for seeing the humor that is here.... underneath the rant. Figures you would.

[EMF]

Can I write in this? Oh.... Seems I can. Anyway... You do cook. Only your ingredients are words and humour. I can carry on this argument a long way.

[Forest Green]

A rarefied rant...yikes. I bet the postman is in trouble now, as he/she is the main door-darkener nowadays...wait they only show up in jeeps now..are they battery-powered?

Romance is a learned facility but it always takes two, and too, and one plus one. Very true..and troubling. :)

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Thanks for not taking it too seriously. A rant? I suppose it is. A write? A bit of one... though not my usual fer sure. Thank you :)

[Mark]

...and yet...
....and ye-e-e-e-et...
Sometimes it seems that the only thing that keeps us from a warm tub and a straight razor is the Hope, forlorn and pathetic though it may well be, that Tomorrow MUST be different, the next relationship HAS to be better, the next employer SURELY will see our obvious qualities, borne out of our exemplary raising.
I mean, I'm with you, in that I've lost any confidence that that day (or that mate, or that job) WILL come, but we have to retain some minute semblance of Hope, or go quite utterly mad.

If you get the chance, take a look at "To An Unmet Love", the first time I put that prayer, that Hope into words...I was yet in my twenties!

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Well I was writing this piece in hopes it would get attention.... I believe about half of this. The half that is intelligent and knows better - I cheer for that half and even allow for that elusive virtue of Hope there. But the other half... that lies down, waits and whines - well most all who know me know exactly how I feel about women who do that. THANKS for the review. I will look at unmet love...

[Marie]

He's coming, he's coming; his foot's on the stair/He's coming, the answer to each heartfelt prayer/He's coming, he's not just a dream in the air/ Oh drat, now I've missed him--but he was right there...

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

To women who Get It. Thank you Marie.

[Clayton Bardwell]

My 40's were my favorite decade. I'm a boy so I don't know if that makes a difference. After that, if they were coming they'll most likely fall asleep before they get there.

Painful but well told.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

That was perhaps the most perfect male review on this piece so far. Honest to the quick. Thank you General.

[roarke]

knock, knock.... IRS....

very powerful, surging, blunt and audacious. The truth IS out there.

different is good.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

THANK you. Thank you truly.