Good things come to those who wait: Does this saying come with an upgrade after a certain period of time?

Step one: Go to Goodwill and buy a bunch of random shoes. (Matches not important).

Step two: Proceed to write name and phone number on the soles of each shoe.

Step three: Leave shoes scattered in random locations where people are likely to see them and be puzzled by them. Specifically locations where guys will see them and be puzzled by them.

Step four: Wait.

When my friend and I first devised this plan we thought it was absolutely genius. We could sneak around the fact that “one is not supposed to go looking for their match” and get those guys to come looking for us. So what if we weren’t being original, I mean, seriously, do you honestly think Cinderella just so happened to “forget” her glass slipper when it fell off her foot? The girl knew exactly what she was doing.

The right guys would be the ones to see the shoe sitting by the gym locker room or aisle 6 of the grocery store, become genuinely concerned that a poor young woman with a size 7 foot was walking around with one less sandal in her life, immediately call the number on the flip-flop and arrange for a pick-up. And the rest would be history…

We would then proceed to have a shoe on top of our wedding cake and we would throw a shoe bouquet instead of flowers. Ok, enough. Too far?

Of course we were not serious about the plan. We had no real intentions of purchasing a boat load of shoes to scatter across the city in hopes of finding the one. But we were certainly restless and tired of fate forgetting all about us.

I hear great love stories wherever I go. I am beginning to spite Nicholas Sparks for infusing me with this belief that if I drop my purse into the water some guy is going to show up with his southern drawl ready to fish it out of the ocean. I sometimes want to stomp my feet and throw a mini hissy feet, “Why not me?! Why not?!”

Those of us who are seemingly “looking” to meet someone have been told endless amounts of times that we must put away the search and simply let time take its course. My response: Easier said than done. It is extremely difficult to stop looking when you want something or you feel you need something. It’s the same for when we lose a favored shirt or a good c.d., our first instinct is to tear apart the house until it is in our possession once again.

But I often remind myself: You are 22-years-old with the world at your feet. There is a reason that you are solo right now, alone on this journey. And when you stop being stubborn and attempting to dictate your storyline then things will unfold in a natural and perfect manner. Fateful Happenings. Things You Cannot Even Attempt To Imagine Just Yet.

So slow down and just move forward. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps next week, perhaps a few years down the line. Either way, someone up there is listening to your heart and will give you what it desires.

It is downright selfish of us to want everything to happen in our own time. We scroll through our planners and we realize that it is indeed the “right time for us” and that leads to our belief that the universe should bow down to our desires. For lack of a more eloquent response, (or I am just itching to use this one) “Aint gonna happen.”

And if we cannot stand to wait it out then we need to be prepared for what is called “settling.”

We begin to open our own doors instead of waiting for them to open for us. We try to cram ourselves into itty bitty doors that we were never meant to fit through instead of waiting for a bigger one to come along. Something tells me that when a door closes on us or when one simply doesn’t open, it’s a sign that we are destined for a better one. We are destined for something or someone that our minds cannot conjure up just yet. Some interactions and conversations that have not yet been played out and over done on a movie screen.  Someone whose presence in our life will fit perfectly one day, if only we give them the chance to arrive on their own time.

We shouldn’t try to mess with fate or manipulate our day-to-day routines as a way to force magic into them. Where is the fun, the suspense, the romance and the passion if we plant it so strategically into our lives? Our Beginning Must Begin On Its Own.

I believe I could very easily insert someone into my life as if they were a multiple choice answer on a reading comprehension test. I could stand by an airport terminal until someone sweeps me off my feet. I could be a damsel in distress in any hardware store. But I think I would be missing out on someone else if I chose to do that…

Someone who won’t need a shoe or even a reason to sit with me for a while.

Dorothy, you are wrong. I have more than one home.

About 5 steps.

Three sips of my coffee.

One look at my phone.

It is about as much as it takes to get my mind to wander back towards home, the place where I am not right now. I used to think home was this house, with these childhood friends, driving around a familiar town and passing six people I know in one hour or having parties in friends’ basements and backyards. In little ways it still is home to me.

But my real home, in this present moment,  is a place that I have come to love over four years. A place where my best friends are waiting for me, ready to scoot into the car to grab a cup of coffee or anxious to meet me in Chuck’s for lunch.

Does home change one day? Do we look around and see that we have moved on? Or does our heart just shift? Do we begin to love another place with another group of people more?

I am pondering these questions because a friend of mine, whom it takes about 2 seconds on her Blackberry or one sip of a Red Bull for her mind to wander back to home, asked me something last night: “Do you ever feel guilty when you are home? Because you love your friends and they are great people but you miss school so much.”

She struggles with this a lot.

I thought about for most of my night, about how much I love college compared to some of my friends who just see it as place to get a diploma. To me, my college is so much more, the people and place are my everything. But I don’t feel guilty about this and I told her so.

What would life be if we stayed in one place. What would it amount to if I decided to stay in this spot forever and just let that be enough because it has made me happy for so long. Life would be static. We would never grow. We would never learn to be individuals.

I think about the ways in which I once believed I would never want to move forward. I wanted to stay in the second grade forever. I wanted my senior year of high school to last for an eternity. I never wanted to leave my hometown.

There have been times in all of our lives that we have wanted to be shoved in a snow globe with a particular moment in time so we would never have to let it go.

But we eventually move forward, sometimes willingly and other times begrudgingly. We find new places to fall in love with, new faces to fall in love with, new versions of our selves to fall in love with. We fall in love over and over again. All Over The Place.

But this is good. This is the way I see it: We start to love places in childhood, which propel us to love other places even more as we grow older. We reach adulthood and we are really starting to truly love passionately and willingly. We find big loves. But we must thank the little loves that we had as children, the places we were for a while like our hometown or our college, for they are the ones that have inevitably taught us to love our place in the world.

Should we feel guilty when our mind wanders and our heart runs away from the present moment towards a home that “we love more.” No, no. Not necessary. We should just be thankful for all places. All these homes. Be thankful that they have served their purpose. Be thankful that these places gave us their time.