I don’t think I want to get married. It is odd how difficult it is to admit. All paths on the map to get there are dead ends. Thinking about it hits my nervous system and almost makes me want to cry. But I don’t cry, maybe a slight sob will come out. I’m mourning the loss of my dreams. At one time I had thought that’s what I wanted.
The next thoughts is, “What am I going to do instead?” I think that’s where the lost cry comes from because I don’t know. I guess I will just work, save money, travel, enjoy my freedom, continue to dabble in experience with men if I met one who is interesting enough. That’s all. It can be summed up that quickly. Mourning the loss of my dreams because I have out grown them. I always had difficulty accepting that I have to grow up. I’m never fully ready for it, usually I’m way past the point when I realize what about me needs to be changed.
I still have some hope that the world with change and I will be able to see things differently, but as far as I can tell, the situation is out of my control. The guys I like don’t like me, I don’t like the guys who like me, I’m broke, so are they… I don’t enjoy feeling obligated to socialize with people, it exhausts me. I am happy the way I am with my day to day happenings. I see dating as a form of prostitution and marriage as a prison where I am damned to be the bitch he cheats on and a surrogate mother he has to ask for permission to stay out late.