Friday, May 26

My Mom Is Right: I'll Never Get Married

I don't remember what it feels like to have a boyfriend.

I forget what it's like to have a partner...a mate. What's it like when you're not single? Is it reassuring and comforting? Is it like having a cushion behind you or a net under your feet? Or is it a burden? Is it frustrating to constantly have to think of another person? I don't remember if it's a pain to worry about two schedules instead of one.

I sometimes think I want that again. Sometimes I think I miss collusion and company. Whenever that happens, I try to imagine my energy being shared. I picture the phases: meeting you; getting to know you; sharing vulnerabilities, passions, dreams. It seems tiresome.

I've got far too much to focus on to remember the color of someone's eyes. How can I be expected to memorize a new cell phone number? There's no way to equitably divide my time.

And yet some late-night conversation might be nice. It could be lovely to have enough human touch. Enough human touch. That's what most of us are really hungry for, you know. There's just no substitute for that yet.

Would I be able to let it in if relationship suddenly came to my door? I don't know if I would even recognize the signals if someone were to unexpectedly send them my way. Do I have blinders on? Or just really dark sunglasses?

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