My fingertips have been itching to write for weeks now, and today it has gotten to the point where I rather be sleep-deprived in the morning than wait another day. But most of the ideas that come to mind are ranty... so I'm going to write a series of posts about these ramblings.
Here we go...
The topic that every conversation always gravitates toward: My love life. Ah, yes... my love life is truly much like the Loch Ness monster: for something that is completely non-existent, it sure does get a lot of publicity, and people talk about it way too much.
The general consensus seems to be that I am entirely overshooting, that I need to be given a reality check--an intervention, even--to bring me down to earth, to make me see that I am asking for too much or that my standards are too high.
In short, I am being constantly bombarded with the idea that I, in fact, do not deserve what I hope for. Read that again. That is what the people in my life are constantly suggesting, directly and indirectly. Take the time to really mull over that, reader, because it means, at its core, that the people who are supposed to love me don't think I'm that great. A crude way of saying it would be "you are just a fat, bald, difficult, tomboyish old spinster. You don't get to be picky. Other people get to be picky because they're fit, or young or have a lovely personality. But you don't. Pray for a man, keep the first one that comes your way--never mind if he's not attractive, just pray that he's a good dude--and thank the heavens for the miracle."
That's what I hear from you, family member, "friend," acquaintance, mom...
That's what you're saying to me when you say I'm too picky, or I'm too superficial, or I'm too difficult, or I'm delusional. You are telling me that other people get to choose their life partner based on an initial attraction that produces a spark that then blossoms into love... but I don't get that... because I don't deserve it.
And trust me, reader, I am painfully aware--PAINFULLY--of my physical, psychological, intellectual, and emotional shortcomings. Even so, dare I hope that maybe, just maybe, there's a God out there that may love me enough to give me a man I won't be repulsed by. Or maybe God isn't gonna give me ANY man. But I know for a fact he's not gonna give me a man I can't stand to kiss and touch, a man with whom I can half-ass life. So, when people make these comments to me... what I really want to say in reply is "wow, you are a turd."**
**What I really, really want to say is actually "wow, you're being a piece of shit right now," but I was trying to keep it clean. Oh well.
Because, truly, when is it ever okay to say you love somebody and want them to be happy only to turn around and tell them "BUT YOU DON'T DESERVE THAT MUCH. YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH." I beg your unbelievable pardon? The hell with you!
Do you think I don't see the rolls of fat, the double chin, the receding hairline? Do you think I don't see the wrinkles, the dark circles, the white hairs? Do you think I don't notice the quirks, the vast differences between myself and other beautiful women? Why rub it in? What can you possibly get out of reminding me? And how do you think exactly that it will change my mind about what I want in life? BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, do you really think that calling me "superficial" really adds anything to my self-esteem? Do you think it will make me "snap out of it" and run into the arms of the next man that looks my way? SHAME ON YOU ALL. You legitimately make me sick, and sometimes I wish I didn't have to ever talk to some of you again. Truly... you suck.
So I pray to God, with all my might, that there will be a day in which He does me the kindness of putting all these people to rest. That I will either find the man He has reserved for me, whom I find attractive not just because of his appearance but also because of his heart, or that He will give me NO MAN AT ALL. But I beg of Him that he'll never let me settle. That's right, world. I rather be a spinster. A thousand times over. I rather die alone than ever be with a man out of desperation or loneliness.
The craziest part is that all these comments come from people who are (or have been) married. So reader, if you are one of these people who's ever said something like this to me, I beg you to consider: is it fair for you to get judgmental of me while you got to marry the man of your dreams (even if he turned out to be the man of your nightmares)?
In conclusion, leave me the unbelievable hell alone. You don't have to worry about me ending up alone. You don't have to worry about my happiness--the part of my happiness that you're responsible for, the one in which you love me and encourage me, you're already doing a horrible job at, so you worrying about my future isn't going to make a difference. You're not gonna be there to take care of my old ass. Most of you aren't even capable of checking up on me now, whenever it really matters. So, let it go. This isn't your fight.
Oddly enough, this is a good enough segue to my next rant:
I am so sick and tired of having one-sided friendships. Like, shit... enough is enough. I think the biggest reason why I have struggled so much with Elena being in the convent these past three years has been because I get this sense that I have no one else to turn to--not really. Don't get me wrong, I seem to have
"plenty of friends," but the friends who are actually really good at checking up on me and being there for emotional support have very busy lives and I don't get to see much of them, and the ones that I get to see more often seem frankly hellbent on just taking, taking, and taking.
Now, you might think I'm exaggerating, and I may very well be... but if I get on a car wreck and NO ONE asks me how I'm feeling the next day, this is a problem. I feel like I would at least invest 30 seconds to check up on a friend if she had been rear-ended the day before, no? Is that truly expecting too much? Yet here we are. No texts, no visits, no effort--not just this time, but consistently. The moment I get too busy or too depressed or too in my head, everyone goes mute, and the reality of the matter rears its ugly head: if I'm not putting in the work, the other person isn't either. AT ALL.
Should I conclude that I am legit unlovable? I kind of want to. Again, my mind goes to the thought that I just am not enough--for a man or for my friends. Or do I need better friends? Are there even any people out there looking for friends? I don't know, man. It's hard because I keep trying to remind myself that perfection isn't attainable and that I myself aren't the perfect friend either... but I can't shake off this feeling that people just don't care. Someone needs some happy pills, eh?
In conclusion, I'm tired of feeling used. I'm tired of feeling unloved and uncherished. I wish God's love was enough for me. I wish I didn't need another human being at all, but I was not made to be a hermit, I'm afraid. So I wander around this world looking for someone who not only will let me love them but who also will make the damn effort to reciprocate.
But, Lord, if I'm not exhausted of this life, ya'll. Don't worry--no plans to give up on living just yet. But it is so hard to keep going when there's so little light. Luckily for me, I have the solid prayers of a few good people keeping me afloat. If you are one of those--thank you.
May God forgive me for selfishly craving attention and recognition and love. Jesus have mercy of me, a sinner.
