Friday, March 13, 2009

Adrift.

Today I wrote to the company that made the engagement ring, to see if maybe it can be returned for a partial refund.

I don't know how much longer I can wait for him.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Office = torture.

I work in an office full of young people establishing their lives. And what does that translate to in the genre of engagements and weddings? Well let's see. One paralegal just moved in with her longtime boyfriend, one of the attorneys is ring shopping and dragging every woman in the office in for opinions because he's so damn nervous about picking the right ring, and two other paralegals (who are both gorgeous, and are good friends) have gotten engaged in the past two months. There's also the attorney who sits directly across the hall from me who's now four going on five month preggers.

Yes, I'm surrounded by happy and prosperous people, whose lives are proceeding beautifully, whose relationships are keeping pace. They parade around showing off sparkly rings and bulging bellies and smiling faces, trading anecdotes and war stories about finding the perfect dress, tasting cake, debating baby names, worrying about where to buy a co-op, picking out the perfect invitations and announcements. And they all deserve to be happy, and it's great for them.

And every time I have to listen to it I want to hide in the bathroom and cry.

But of course, there's no privacy in the bathroom. Three stalls for thirty women? It never stays cleared for long.

The fact is that I've only lost something that I never had. And I can't figure out why that is so often the case in my life. Maybe I'm just that thoroughly delusional.

Today at lunch the two affianced girls were talking about their upcoming engagement parties. And first I thought, yeah, I'm not engaged anymore. And they I remembered, no one was going to throw us an engagement party anyway. I know that sounds like I'm just feeling sorry for myself, and I probably am, but it doesn't change the fact. There only would have been an engagement party if we'd thrown it for ourselves, and - really? Let's be honest - if I'd thrown it. It wasn't going to come from our family or friends - that encompasses a group of people who didn't actually find it necessary to even send a note. Hell, several of them didn't even say congratulations.

I, of course, am blaming myself for that. It's because I got engaged "wrong". Because I talked about it too much beforehand, or announced it improperly. And then the darker side of my brain chimes in: no, it's just because they knew it wasn't real. How could it have been? You're not the kind of girl these things happen to.

What I wish most of all at this point is that I could be different. Because I'm beginning to think that the only answer is to stop wanting all of this.