It seemed only pretty recently that my life consisted of work, of parties (they aren’t the fancy ones; just at homes of friends, usually) and generally just having fun.
And then 2011 stepped in, all sly and yet assuming. It even had the gall to make my friends want to settle down, if not get their serious relationships even more serious with plans of geting married. When I’m around my friends, oddly enough, I feel like I’m their chaperone. Even though I’m the one attending parties in solo flight, going to bars on occasions with “single” stamped on my forehead, I feel like I ought to be the one whipping out a fantastic crochet and shushing everyone to be quiet and be well-behaved. While stroking the cat on my lap.
In a circle wherein my friends are getting serious left and right, I feel like I was accidentally placed in the wrong place and time. I feel like I’m someone’s sixth toe. You know, that one creature everyone can’t help but stare at.
I had my parents worried. (“Had” because they have reached the point of acceptance now). I have my siblings worried (present tense used because apparently, they are still convinced and hoping that I will eventually find a man I will marry). I’M not worried. I know better than to get involved in a relationship just because I NEED someone. I can very much stand on my own, thank you. One of my brothers complained that I was too emotionally independent for my own good. I think I’ll take that as a compliment.
In the meantime, while I’m single and not looking and leaving things up to Fate (and watching “True Blood” and eating junk food and gulping down coffee during the weekends), the world can tune in to other things and not hold its breath. Because I doubt I’ll fall in love soon and easily. But yes, I do make a great friend with boys and their girlfriends and wives don’t even have to worry because I am the epitome of loyalty, fidelity and trust. Amen.