I am yawning sleepily behind the wheel this morning when Stevie Wonder’s For Once in My Life comes on the radio. I turn it up loud and sing along as tingles fizz throughout my body. I drive delightedly into the beautiful green countryside, bathed in early September sunlight.
This is the kind of song that plays as the credits roll after a heartwarming rom-com, where the two lead characters finally shrug off their doubts and stubborn self-sabotage and swoop upon one another in the middle of a rain-shocked street or teeming airport terminal.
This is the kind of song that you only smile at when you’re in love. When you’ve found the person you believe is going to save you, crown you, give you the unconditional love you hadn’t even realised you’d been denying yourself. When you’re dazzled by the exciting debut of a relationship where colour and laughter are magnified and embraces and caresses come thick and often.
This is the kind of song you swiftly switch off when you’re not in love. The kind of song that grates on you as you peer out at lovestruck couples with envy and cynicism and a shameful knot of malice.
And yet, this morning, as a single woman, this is the kind of song that reminds me that life is wonderful, that I am happy, and that I don’t need a partner to distract or complete me. I am whole. Life is full. And I have all the love I could ever need.