A few thoughts
After a particularly lonely and down-with-love weekend, I feel inclined to write something here I normally wouldn't because, you know, people
EVERYONE IS FUCKING MARRIED. Everyone is fucking married and happy. Or engaged and happy. The latter is particularly saddening, for some reason.
Okay, so tell me how this makes sense.
I've never been one of those girls who dreams of getting married. Never been the type to write Mrs. So-and-So with little hearts all over my notebook. Never been the type to look wistfully through Bride
magazine and dream of my special day. In fact, when the idea of my
come together, my only concern is if that were to happen (ha ha), who the hell would I invite? Stacey better make some friends, pronto.
However, I am
desperately fond of the idea of being engaged. The mere sight of a rock on a woman's finger makes me ooze jealousy, and not because I have any special attachment to expensive baubles. It's that those rings exude happiness; an engagement ring is a blinking neon sign that reads, "I have someone that loves me." Someone that loves her so much that he had the idea
to propose and spent oodles of dollars on a ring to accompany the question - will you have me? How wonderful must it be to have someone love you and want you like that?
I don't know if that's going to happen to me. I had that feeling a while back, that marriage wasn't in the cards for me. And back then, that didn't seem bad. But now.. now I can't help but get a little down. I can't help but wonder what's wrong with me. What kind of love repellent is seeping out my pores? Am I too silly to be taken seriously? Too accepting to be appreciated? JUST NOT FUCKING CUTE ENOUGH?
As you can tell, this has been a bad weekend. But hey, at least I have my cat.