Monday, February 16, 2009

Maybe I should just face the fact that I'm probably not getting married.

Not to Jonathan, and not to anyone else. Maybe I was so afraid that I created a self-fulfilling prophesy. Or maybe I've just been right all these years. But either way, I just don't believe that it's actually going to happen.

Why not? Well let's see. I'm 31 years old, and the only time I've even gotten close to believing it could happen was when I twisted Jonathan's arm so tightly that I damn near broke it. And where is that situation now? Well let's see. We've given up the venue, canceled the invitations, scrapped the idea of having any kind of celebration for it, and I'm no longer wearing an engagement ring. Uh... yeah. Call me a skeptic, but I just don't think I'm becoming a Mrs. anything any time soon.

No, not a wife. Just a burden and a laughing stock. Something to pity, perhaps, or to scoff at.

Who was I ever kidding? I barely ever even fooled myself. Talk about wishful thinking.