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The street was quiet as I walked out of the theater. The pavement was sleek and black and the cars were topped with beads of water. After the rain, brief as it was, was my favorite time. It smelled new. Everything smelled fresh and untouched as if someone up there wanted to give you another chance. And it was quiet. No sirens, or horns, or people. Just you and the click of your heels to interrupt stillness.

Well, almost.

“So it just wasn’t your night, huh?”

Recognizing the voice, I turned on my heels. Fred, in the most chic outfit yet, all in black, stood in front of me. Hands stuffed in his pockets.

“It’s not really my life, actually,” I said trying to hold back tears.

“I saw that.” Fred nodded toward the theater. “That was number three. What are you going to do now?”

Wiping the first tear from my eye with my index finger and sniffling, I faked a smile. “Buy my first cat. Can’t be the crazy cat lady without cats.”

Fred smiled, toddled toward me and handed me a white, linen handkerchief. “You have a couple of more days left, don’t give up.”

“Who am I suppose to meet now? My three best prospects didn’t work out. How am I supposed to meet someone and create a spark?”

“But all you need is a spark.”

“A spark is everything, Fred,” I said wiping more tears with his handkerchief. “I know that now. You can’t fake it, predict it, plan it or will it to happen. It just happens.” The tears came faster and so did the sobbing. “And you can’t formulate it either. Pedigree doesn’t mean compatibility.”

“And you can’t hide from it either,” Fred added.

“What?” I stopped crying long enough to see Fred serious face. “I haven’t been hiding.”

“You’ve been hiding all your life. If someone isn’t a glamour guy you won’t even give him a second thought. You’re hiding behind material things. Love can’t find you there.”

That’s when I lost it. The tears flowed down my cheeks as well as the snot from my nose. It was a full blown heart cry, in the middle of the street, with a cherub in trendy clothing watching. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

“Hey, you’ve got a couple of more days before Valentine’s Day. Something could happen.”

“Whhhaaat ifff iittt dooeesssn’t?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

And with that Fred, on cue, popped out.

Breathing through the sobs, I managed to calm myself enough to not look like a complete idiot walking down the street. If I had to be a spinster, let it be a sane spinster with fabulous taste in shoes. Using Fred’s hanky, I wiped the area under my eyes where I was sure that my mascara was making me look like a raccoon. After straightening out my dress, I walked back toward my car.

Fred was right. I was hiding behind labels and money, what men could buy and what lifestyle I would have. Truth be told, I was happy with my current lifestyle. I had security and a great best friend and, if I stopped serial dating, I was sure that I could find a hobby or something. My life was good, with or without a man. Why did it take a Valentine’s Day disaster to prove it?

Maybe because I put too much emphasis on things that aren’t as important. Now, I’d have to pay for that by being the last single girl. It served me right and maybe in the next life I won’t take love for granted and let it find me.

“Come on!”

A man’s distressed voice and the false start of a care echoed in front of me. Along a long line of parked cars a red Focus had its hood up and the driver’s side car door opened.

This was a bad scenario for a woman who was alone at night on a street where no one was driving. Horror movies were made out of this situation. And if I remember correctly, the person of color always died first in those movies. Great.

The man could have been a murderer or a rapist or, even worse, a combo who would dump my body in some shallow grave only to be found by a little boy walking through the woods. But somehow, I wasn’t afraid, but I was still careful.

“Excuse me, do you need any help?” I asked approaching the car.

“Love? It that you?”

Jake hopped out of the car with a delighted look on his face.

“Jake! I didn’t know it was you.”

He scooped me up in a hug and I was surprised. I know that we’ve only known each other a couple of days but … well, it seemed like longer, really…not that I know all about him or his life… but we know enough to hug…maybe…kinda…well, yeah. Geez, he smelled good. I returned the hug and he held me tighter.

His eyes evaluated my face and concern blanketed his. “Have you been crying? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” I shook my head. Jake’s arms were still around my waist. My hands around his upper arms. For a skinny guy, he was pretty strong.

“Date didn’t go so good, then?”

“Something like that. Long story.”

“Well, I have the time. Called for a tow truck and it’s gonna take an hour to get here. They’re suppose to call my cell phone when they’re on their way.” He stepped back, letting me go.

“Well, my car is right there. Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

“No, I don’t need anything.”

Have you ever had a moment of complete clarity, a eureka moment, if you will? It’s that moment when the heart beats faster, and smiles are cheekier. Everything in the brain and soul—thoughts, emotions, feelings, even tomorrow’s grocery list—is twisted into a kaleidoscope of gibberish. All you want to do is giggle and skip like a 5-year-old and sing silly songs like a stroke patient. This was my moment. Clarity.