When you’re single and your friends start to walk down that aisle to exchange their vows, every wedding invitation brings out a strange moment of self-evaluation: will you get that great gift in life that allows you to bring a guest? Or will you be like a lot of us with the lower stick and forced to attend alone? To me, what it might seem to be asking is where do you see yourself in a year? Or six months even? It begins to make me think my right person that was supposed to come along got hit by a bus.
The average age in Michigan to be married is 26.4 years. Nationally it is 27 for woman and 29 for men, which means I am about 3.5 years behind on my game. I really need to step it up. Also, by the age of 25, 44% of Americans have children since 38% of them are married. I realize there is a higher rate of 56% not walking down that oh so amazing path, but I would rather be on the lower end of whoever discovered all of this mental abuse to humans.
Perhaps one reason is because more college educated women are unlikely to have a child before marriage. It could also be because couples that have a child before they are married are more likely to break up, and I do know a few who are on that page. I guess it is a good thing I am not on the edge of this river. I just know that one day I won’t have to say goodbye to my (I may I love him) “buttface”, but I don’t even get to say goodnight.
I do like that the rate of couples cohabitating is on the rise: there was less than one million living together in 1960 yet in 2010 there was 7.5 million. These are just couples. I have faith that it’s a good thing for a couple to live together before marriage. They begin to learn more about each other before marriage. I believe way before our time, the woman was not allowed to live with the man before the marriage. Only problem I have with this picture is I have no man to live with yet here I am handing out some good old fashion advice. Blah, blah, same old story.
I am never the type that is good at expressing her feelings. Complaining? Yes. Love? No. Getting close to you changed me because I know I fell hard for you the moment I first saw you. I just didn’t want to give myself false hope that anything was going to progress from our first date.
I swear, at times though, you must have felt something for me. The way you smiled at me, how you could barely look me in the eyes. You didn’t push me away when I sporadically dove in for a kiss to end that amazing night. I felt I had a chance with you. I didn’t know if I should take it. That’s where the wuss inside of me began swimming around. I didn’t want anyone to know what was inside. I am better at getting my words out with writing than through my mouth.
I didn’t mean to break your heart once you awoke my heart from its slumber and made me feel for the first time. I had no idea what to do with them. I began to think that perhaps there might be others out in this partially free world for me.
Then I realized you are someone that is meant to fill this emptiness that I am feeling. I love the way you think about me, the way you look at me. I would swear that look must mean something deeper. But I will never know that now.
If I never see you again, just know that I still love you. I miss you and just wish I could have you back. I want to hear your sleepy voice sounds over the phone. I want to know how it feels when we hold hands. I want to cause you to smile. I want to listen to your low, sexy voice speaking closely to my ear.
But I can’t do all of these wonderful things with you because you love someone else, while my love for you will forever remain never ending.