'Cuzi Crushin'

Yesterday I engaged in my usual pool-robics convo with my friend Diana; my fifty-something-year-old homie that has to be the sweetest woman I have ever met. The last time we spoke, she was totally crushing on this Italian man that goes to her church. She emailed him, he essentially said he wasn't interested, but her affections did not wain. She emailed him again. No reply. She has decided to let it go.
But as we sat in the hot tub together, it seemed that the one thing she can't let go is her frustration with being alone. She told me that all she wants is someone to grow old with; someone to escort her to church. As I have said in previous posts, I feel that I connect with Diana. She wants a partner, and I want a man who dislikes sex and lives to give me shoulder kisses. You see the connection.
When she told me this, I could feel her agitation through the boiling tub 'cuzi water. And I felt her pain, seeing that after she made her comment, I mind slideshowed all my friends who have cheated on people, dumped people, been with the same person since daycare, or have just gotten married. And I know these people...well. I am sure that they do not buy new clothes for the homeless while they shop at the Goodwill or do hours and hours of volunteer work for their churches.
I'm not saying that being a saint should guarantee you companionship, but Ms. Diana is and the fact that she doesn't just doesn't seem fair. Who decides who gets the gettin'? Why do shitty girls have a card catalog of callers while Diane sits in the hot tub with her lip poked out? This I wonder on occasion, especially when I come across her. I can only hope I don't end up her age, wondering the same thing still.