I'm actually kind of scared...
The Boy I spoke of last week is no longer a Boy in my life. Which is good, really, because quite frankly with everything else going on right now, I don't really have the time, patience, or energy.
The thing about dating that gets to me is how much I absolutely detest it. Joomy chides me by times, and says that I don't really mean that I hate it. And perhaps that's true. Everyone likes for the phone to ring, and for it to be someone looking to talk. Everyone likes cuddling up in front of a movie with someone to lean on. Everyone likes having someone strong enough to carry you home from the bar when you've had one too many.
But in reality, the rest of it makes my heart stop and my stomach turn. I'm not sure what this says about me as a person: Does it mean I'm a commitment phobe? Does it mean that I'm the ice queen? Does it mean that I just haven't met someone I want to be in a relationship with?
The thought of getting in-depth with someone, of having to explain my insanity and my Other Life, and having to explain -- or better yet, get someone to understand -- why I came all the way to the Big City to get a degree when all I really want to do is grow things: well, all of it is kind of overwhelming. And slightly nauseating. And completely hives-inducing.
I'm a young and single blogger, and like so many other bloggers, I have this vision that some prince charming will come in and sweep me off my feet, and then suddenly I'll be an engaged blogger and then a married blogger and then a mommy blogger.
And really, that sounds nice. It sounds quaint and attainable.
But at the same time, the very thought makes me want to take my single-ness in my arms and run screaming from the room, grasping it up close to me, holding it like a lifeline to something that I don't understand.
I'm not sure if it's possible that I've been burned one too many times. I'm not sure if it's the fear of having everything I've ever wanted thrown back in my face one more time. That seems to be the way it happens for me.
On a deeper level, though, I think it has to do with wanting to be me. I want to take on this world as me, and no one else but me. I want to prove to myself that I am the most important person in my existence. I want to take this life and make it my own without having to hope that someone else's plans mesh with that. I also don't want to compromise my goals, trading off one thing for a few hours of being cuddled up on a couch.
The thing that scares me is, does this mean I want to be single for the rest of my life? Does this mean that rather than having the traditional marriage and family that I really want to live with my parents until I can find a small home to live in, and adopt needy children from foster care, and then retire with a bunch of cats who don't like me?
I don't know what these feelings mean for the rest of my life. And that scares me.
For now, however, I'm still one hundred percent satisfied being me, and only me, and that just makes me happy.