Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Relationship. Love. Devotion. Marriage. Monogamy.
These words are freaking me out! I don’t want to be attached to one man (or woman) for the rest of my life. I can’t even pick a favorite ice cream. Most kids like chocolate or vanilla (the little racists); I had to have Neapolitan so I could vary the order in which I ate the flavors. Then, I discovered cookie dough, and life became chaos.
Men are not ice cream (unless you lick it off them), but it’s a decent metaphor. Until I try all 51 flavors, I won’t know what I’m missing, so how can I be content?
Are there still 51? Or was it 52? More? Less? …I may be an ice cream whore.
As for current non-boyfriend — (Because he is not my boyfriend. I made that quite clear.) — I don’t know what number (flavor) he is, and I probably wouldn’t admit to it even if I took the time to count back through fifteen years of dating (sampling). If I ever reach the triple digits, I’ll be sure to retire my vagina, just as a courtesy. Unless I’m given the Royal 39 treatment twice over, I have another twenty years left in my…self. Why would I want to waste two decades on a man who will either ask for a divorce or have me killed.
I may be cynical, but I’m also realistic; even if there were “someone for everyone” in this world, it is highly improbable that two people are each others’ someones. On the off chance that two people are perfect for each other, or are the perfect complements of each other, it seems unlikely they would meet in a world that has however many billion.
In other words: all those scary words that opened this post are synonymous of settling for someone less than you deserve. We have a limited time in this physical plane; therefore, we supposedly don’t waste it by falling in love with, or even marrying, whomever we can tolerate living with / having children with for our lifetimes. However, I argue that by not wasting time we end up wasting our lives, or a large portion of them.
What if? That will always be the question.
It’s very doubtful I will ever marry, and I am content in that understanding. The “what if” is too strong; I cannot move past the doubts no matter how long I am with (or not with) a person. For example: P.J. (that’s what we’ll call the current guy).
In my previous entry, I covered much of why he and I are incompatible; yet, I also have been questioning those areas where we do seem to mesh, such as: the sex is amazing, but what if I only think it’s amazing because it’s been so long since I’ve been touched by anyone other than myself?