June 27, 2015
1316
I sat in a quaint coffee shoppe one morning, ruminating upon my faint existence. I felt like a small speck in the eye of every person in my life — those important to me, whom I love, and those I acquaint with. On the day of my 25th year of existence, I was shocked to find two friends who wished to celebrate the day with me without my asking. Because, you see, that day doesn't mean much to me. When the spotlight shines on me, I'm the type who jumps out of it. The shock of my friends' genuine care brought a soothing satisfaction, however a little sadness as well. One of them, let's just call her S., is a beautiful blonde whom I have a lot in common with. Ninety-nine percent of our likes and dislikes are the same. The only problem is that she's engaged, perfectly happy, although the loser doesn't deserve her; and I'm not the only one who sees that. The other friend, let's call her H., is a beautiful brunette, single since the summer of last year, but like most Christian women, she is afraid of relationships — of commitment. H. and I connected in every single way, but she makes up excuses why we can't be together. Basically, we connected, feelings ensued, and she led me on to believe that we could become something until she revealed that it'll never happen. This is called what I have dubbed as "bitchery."
The irrational fears Christian women have of commitment confounds me. They are committed to our invisible God, yet fear commitment with a tangible Christian man. Yet I am surrounded by happy Christian couples who are engaged, newly married with a baby on the way, and recently in relationships. It's an unfathomable, vexing paradox. I have witnessed numerous newly wed Christian couples who've dated for 3 weeks to a month or so, got married, and then pregnant within a couple weeks. It's obviously they only got married because they were horny. I am cursed with not only perpetual loneliness, but also having to watch happy couples in my perpetual loneliness, no chance of a woman having the audacity to give me a chance.
A couple walks into the coffee shoppe, and their adoration for each other is palpable, envy a rising tide within my heart. I would be judged for my envy. But what single person who desires to be loved by someone else wouldn't envy a happy couple? It would be inhuman not to have that envy in such a predicament. I don't ask for envy to rise up and drown me in its misery; it just rises withal. One never drowns because he wishes to. However, don't let there be misunderstanding. In spite of not having this desire, I am happy. My sorrow is simply that I don't have someone to share it with. No one to offer all the love that I have in my heart — an unrequited love.
No one wants it either. They say, "She'll come along. Just be patient." But they're all idiots. They can only say that because they already have someone, so they're incapable of understanding. Or they're someone who's single who couldn't give two shits about being with someone or not, so they're even more incapable of understanding. Patience is for wimps; it's impatient people who actually work hard to achieve their goals. I was engaged twice, once betrayed and once left behind. I've had it twice, and they both escaped my embrace. That was 4 years ago, so I have been patient. SO pardon me for having a momentary lapse of reason — for being human.
Perhaps years from now I'll be married and will laugh at all this. But that's the unforeseen future; this is the present. I can't know the future, and neither can anyone else, so it's stupid for anyone to tell me without a shadow of a doubt that someone will come along. All I know is what I'm feeling now, and right now all I feel is sorrow and I have no one who can give me comfort. It is the tide of this sorrow that rises up and subdues me until the day she finds me, grabs my hand, and pulls me from the waters to breathe love into my lungs.
No comments:
Post a Comment