For a long time, I thought that my ultimate life's goal was to be married, own a house, and raise a family. I mean, isn't that what everyone who grows up in the suburbs wants? Okay, I'm a bit of a non-conformist, and my life thus far hasn't really pushed me in that direction. But I always believed I was just a little bit misguided and that eventually, the path I was on would join up with the ones everyone else seemed to be following. I also believed that if I pursued the things I loved - music, travel, adventure - I'd fall in love with someone along the way. Um, God? It's been about 26 years now, quickly going on eternity. Don't you think I've been wandering around long enough?
Maybe I'm not cut out for love. I don't suppose everyone is. You hear stories of people who spend their lives in solitude; maybe I'm one of those people. It strikes me as a bit odd, though. I believe I'm an incredibly passionate person, and I strive to build strong and meaningful relationships with people. Wouldn't I be suited for love? I think I could handle it.
I have received endless advice from people on the subject: "You've got to put yourself out there!" Okay, so I've tried online dating. Multiple times, in fact. Every guy I run into on the Internet just never seems to be a match. Either he wants to marry me in a week, he can't hold a conversation to save his life, or I'm just not that attracted to him. I've been set up on dates by friends, but there's usually a lack of chemistry. Hell, I've even picked up guys at bars. But those kinds of guys end up working in the porn industry (true story, and I swear I didn't see it coming) or have some frighteningly weird sexual fetish (also another true story, which I probably should have seen coming). There's also the good old, "You've got to stop searching for it. I found the love of my life when I was least expecting it, and I've never been happier." For all those who have ever doled this piece of wisdom out to me, first of all, I would like to make you aware of the fact that when I came on board the Carnival Sensation, the last thing I wanted was to start a relationship. But then I fell for a guy, and it's turned out to be the most complicated, difficult, and heart-wrenching situation I've ever found myself in. Second of all, fuck you. (I mean that in the nicest way possible.)
How many times do you have to strike out before you realize that you just aren't that great of a baseball player? Don't get me wrong, I know my way around the field. I suppose I'm not meant to be a pro, that's all. So perhaps I should consider an alternate course of action.
I'm giving up on the suburban dream. You know, rich husband, white picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog, the works. It's not that shocking, I guess, given my track record (headline: Single Girl Gets Her Heart Torn in Two, Yet Again!), and come on, can you really imagine me settling down? The passionate musician who leaves all she knows behind to pursue and preserve her art, becoming an avid globetrotter in the process... Maybe it's worth throwing in the towel. At the end of my life, I'd love to tell stories of me singing my way across our lovely planet, exploring unfamiliar corners and meeting the fabulous folks of our great green earth. Not many people get to do that. And I've got a good start on it already. Is it necessary to have a life partner to do it all with? I've still got chemistry, I've still got romance, that should suffice. It has so far, for the most part.
Okay, there is a part of me that is surrendering. I've never felt like a keeper, mostly because no one's ever wanted to have me. But instead of wallowing in my misery, I'm rejecting it and embracing the life of the Single Girl. At this point, what else is there to do, really?
Maybe I'm not meant to find love. But I sure as hell will find adventure.
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