Wow, so, I don’t know why this post has been saved as a draft for so long. I definitely wrote it in December, just after I started at my last job … which I quit earlier this month, just so you know. Anyway …
Sometimes a girl just hits a threshold where she can’t handle any more talk of weddings, boyfriends or blind dates without wanting a piece of the action for herself.
Usually I am not that girl. In fact, within days of starting this job, one of the sports guys had asked me if I wasn’t the marrying type and then decided that I probably didn’t want children. (He was wrong on both counts, and I can’t help but wonder why he thought he had me so quickly figured out.)
No, usually I’m the girl who complains about wedding and engagement announcements and loudly proclaims how much she is not ready for marriage.
OK, so I’m still that girl. But for tonight, at the very least, I’m also the girl who wouldn’t mind attempting a relationship.
The other night I made one of my typical comments about not being ready to be married and a couple of friends gave me those “really?” sort of expressions. And well, I figure it’s pretty obvious that I’m not ready, given that I have no one who I would want to marry at this point (nor anyone who would want to marry me, but y’know, one without the other isn’t much good anyway).
I read somewhere today that everyone is afraid of commitment these days. I wonder if that’s true. Are we more afraid of commitment than in the past? I am, at least a little bit – I mean, seriously, I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted more than three months.
But I crave companionship as much as the next person, and though it can come in many less romantic forms, the truth is I would like a man to spend some time with. That obviously wouldn’t supplant time with girlfriends (once I make them) or, well, with my cat, because she is the only one who travels with me from city to city on this voyage we call my twenties.
I figure I probably won’t date much while I live in this city, if at all. There simply aren’t that many men to choose from. The attractive ones are usually married or too young for me (I could handle grad students, maybe even a fifth year senior, but junior college guys are just a little green yet.) And did I mention that the first (well, only) place I’ve been hit on in this city was at Wal-Mart?
Dating isn’t everything – if you look at my past history, you’ll realize that I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it, especially when a co-worker proffers her newly diamond-laden hand.
I’m not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live