Always a bridesmaid
I turned 27 this year. So far, I'm not a huge fan. Initially, I felt old, but now I just feel nothing. I'm at that awkward space of time between youth and middle age.
Something I've realized from all the turmoil and grief that has characterized 2011 is that I'm pretty sure I will die alone. I know how over the top that must sound coming from someone under 30, but the inkling remains. Since my teen years, half a dozen or so different guys have, in varying degrees of sincerity, expressed a desire to marry me. Not one -- even those who swore they loved me more than anything -- has actually done so, other than in playful jest. Yes, I'm still less than a year into my current relationship, and no, I don't predict the future with any particular degree of accuracy; yet, here I am, and this is how I feel.
Either I don't pick guys who are inclined to getting down on one knee, or there is something inherently unmarriageable about me. It's probably a combination of both factors. And every quality of mine that points to the latter -- and there are several -- is a facet of my personality I couldn't imagine abandoning. I am not particularly easy to live with, but I'd always hoped the reward was worth the challenge. Maybe I'm just wrong. The fact that my last relationship ended without a proposal is pretty strong proof that marriage will likely never happen for me. I'm not ok with that right now, but I hope to be sometime soon.
And I sure as hell hope to eat this whole post one day.
Something I've realized from all the turmoil and grief that has characterized 2011 is that I'm pretty sure I will die alone. I know how over the top that must sound coming from someone under 30, but the inkling remains. Since my teen years, half a dozen or so different guys have, in varying degrees of sincerity, expressed a desire to marry me. Not one -- even those who swore they loved me more than anything -- has actually done so, other than in playful jest. Yes, I'm still less than a year into my current relationship, and no, I don't predict the future with any particular degree of accuracy; yet, here I am, and this is how I feel.
Either I don't pick guys who are inclined to getting down on one knee, or there is something inherently unmarriageable about me. It's probably a combination of both factors. And every quality of mine that points to the latter -- and there are several -- is a facet of my personality I couldn't imagine abandoning. I am not particularly easy to live with, but I'd always hoped the reward was worth the challenge. Maybe I'm just wrong. The fact that my last relationship ended without a proposal is pretty strong proof that marriage will likely never happen for me. I'm not ok with that right now, but I hope to be sometime soon.
And I sure as hell hope to eat this whole post one day.