Despite aplenty who think I look a decade younger than 30, there is not one breathing second I am not aware that I am 30 going on 31. My job reminds me that everyday. People around me remind me that everyday. Whether it is high school classmates, college friends, colleagues or strangers I meet on the street, I am constantly reminded I am 30 and single. Sometimes the look I see in kids and parents can jerk tears. And every time I get my hopes up for a certain guy, I am more than often disappointed.
While learning not to have expectations I am tugged between being hopeful that something will turn up. While learning to accept that I may live the rest of my life alone, I loath the idea that I am throwing in the towel on love, that I am giving in, giving up. While guy after guy, time after time, I learn that men just aren't as romantic and committing than a decade ago let alone Jane Austen's time, I am torn between the many couples I know that attest love still exists.
In the name of love, how do we balance between not having expectations and being hopeful that it will eventually happen?
This is the one moment I loath being an optimist. I can be an optimist about my career because it is somehow in my hands. But being an optimist in love is tiring when time after time you are wrestled down and you feel you have no control over it...
And what if I don't have expectations for love? I never had a back-up plan for when I don't find love...I can have a back-up plan if this job doesn't work and hop onto another career, but there is no back-up plan for this...it's either spinsterhood all the way or adopting, which is nothing compared to the real deal. And is what I want really that much to ask for? Waking up to find your love by your side and going to bed knowing that the same person will be there, is that a lot to ask for? What happened to men of the 21st century?
As much as I know this is part of growing up, when is it going to end? This tunnel feels everlasting...
No comments:
Post a Comment