It's February and though I've never quite associated this month with the month of love. Three of my siblings celebrate our birthdays this year (and one of them only every four years). Plus one brother actually celebrates right smack on Valentines Day (along with my grandpa), so it's got too many birthdays going on to have me really associate it with loooooove. But somehow, as I get ~older, and succumb to societal pressure, it's hard to ignore the non-issue of my detachment from anyone special.
See the thing is, I don't think I want to be in a relationship just yet. Sure, there are times when I feel like EVERYONE around me has someone (and yes, it does stir emotions of perhaps, jealousy? curiosity), but on the over-all, I'm really happy where I am. I like doing things on my own. Not being obligated to see someone (I know, when I'm in the relationship, it won't -- or shouldn't -- feel like an obligation) and just having to answer to myself seems to be working for me really well.
At the same time though, at 24, I feel like I should at least be looking (seriously) or preparing myself for the supposed eventuality, right? Our priest (not the cute, one, but still fairly cute Australian parish priest) asked me one day if I had a boyfriend and I go, 'nope, not really looking' and he sort of made it seem like I should be because he doesn't want me crying to him when I'm 30 and want children, which to me, just says he hears this a lot, but it makes me wonder because, really, I don't want kids. Not now, not in the foreseeable future, and not sure if EVER.
And I guess that's one of the things stopping me from even considering relationships right now. Because I'm 24, if I do get a boyfriend, he might want some kids some day and I don't know if he'll understand why I don't want any. Or that I may want some but just can't think of birthing and bringing up kids at all.
Which of course, all the elders say will change when I do get into a relationship but I honestly don't think it will. They say you're pretty much formed when you're 8 years old and then when you're 25, you're set for life so though I may change slightly, I highly doubt something this big would come to me in an epiphany. So yes, I may eat my words one day, but this feels like a legitimate reason.
Also because of my age, I don't think it'd be acceptable for me to just get into a relationship with a puppy love mentality, which I feel I'd been robbed off, since I didn't exactly experience the young love, devil may care, let's just take it slow and easy and not (as) seriously kind of thing. When really, I haven't had a single relationship so I feel like I'm still entitled to one silly fling without being judged as immature or flaky.
So yes, the month of love brings all these questions to the surface and though I'm not quite sure what the answer is to anything, I'm slowly trying my best to be open to things. No, I won't fall into the arms of the first boy who shows interest (not that there have been any) but I'm trying to get over the fact that putting myself out there doesn't mean I'm desperate or forward. It just means I'm interested and I guess, be flattered I'm even bothering.
Anyway, I was talking to an officemate who's a bit older than me and she told me that would rather go after a guy she liked more than one who liked her. Which actually surprised me, not that I wasn't thinking the same. You'd think we'd go for the one who loved us, but instead we surprise ourselves by torturing ourselves with the ones we love.
I always hear people say, the guy should love you more, and sure, why not, right? But what if the guy you love isn't someone who can love you more than you love him? And is this is even quantifiable? I've read my fair share of romance novels (damn you, Nora Roberts!) and though I know they write those romances to set the bar at an impossibly high standard, I'm not giving up hope. Yes, this may dash and realistic views of a future relationship but might as well, dream high, right?
And that ends my monthly quota for a diatribe that doesn't quite add up to anything. For the record, I'm quite sober, though my brother and his friends downstairs seem to be on their way to a lovely buzzed to inebriated feeling. I feel like a very young grandma wishing I had warm socks on and peace and quiet.