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Monday, March 24, 2014

On being single

I am skating my way down the road to spinsterhood.

Or perhaps this is just another mid-life crisis episode.

I’d live a short life, thus the assumption. I do not see myself collecting my retirement money and spending it on a luxurious jetsetter’s travel nor stare at my pruning limbs while the people I grew old with deteriorates one at a time. I’ll die young, and this belief may be the reason why I’d like to put my career on a halt, travel the places I listed on my tickler and read the growing number of books on my personal library. I keep on remembering the need to live one day at a time, as if you were just born today, no, not as if it is your last. There’s something so glum about “last” that may trigger one in pursuing pranks instead of giving one’s best. Live as if you were born today shares the sentiment of seeing things for the first time and being brave enough to succeed even after an initial failure.

Failure has no place in my aggressive stunt to finish my degree. I may be not the best student around, but who cares. My confidence is rocket high when it comes to the things that I ought to learn from school. And to hell with numbers! Grades are just numerical values which measure what I learned about the lesson, not what I understood outside of it. I’d always prefer the latter. Though, I have no allowance for a failing mark simply because I am single, therefore the lack of reasons such as husband, kids and chores, to excuse myself from being an achiever.

Achieve more than what others can, that’s what is expected of me. Extracurricular tasks are expected to be on my belt since I only take care of myself. Playing the godmother (pitching in for a larger amount of share if not paying for everybody) is expected from me because I do not have mouths to feed or bills to worry. Looking after the kids of relatives and colleagues are expected not to be turned down. How do they even find out that dating has been history with me?

I’ve been through so many relationships to the point of almost catharsis (this may not be my rock bottom yet, thus the hesitation. I still keep on finding myself in the same friggin’ situation, feeling the same darn emotions no matter how exhausted I claim to be. I guess, somewhere, somehow, hope is still lurking my pumping machine). Being in a romantic relationship is exhausting. The drill of dating-having-hanging out-arguing-making up-compromising-hanging out-arguing-making up-compromising-hanging out- arguing-making up-deciding to break up is way too draining. It makes one no different from a hamster on a run-about wheel – doing the same mistakes and finding himself/herself stuck in the same dilemma. There would always be something excessive and something missing in relationships. Like a dish, it’s too savoury and too bland at the same time. Was I expecting love or unconditional surrender, just how I have loved and unconditionally surrendered myself?

But then again, emotions are fleeting. I feel a change of heart from time to time. At high times, I’d wish for someone to share my glory with. At low times, I’d rather sulk and suffer from my self-destruction. One thing’s for sure, loneliness is such a foreign feeling I’d rather not dwell into. So, going back from where all these ideas started – marriage, or the lack of it; I’d say, why get married when it’s easier to just shoot myself?

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