Made To Love Her - Not

I swear to you I am coming to this post relatively free of drugs and fever. There is a half-pint of Kozy Shack waiting for me when I go back upstairs, but in the meantime...

I have known all along that there really isn't a thing to this 'lid for every pot' business. It's bogus and it's something our mothers or girlfriends told us when we were mooning on about never finding anyone to love us.

For years now, I have believed and now I can say it out loud, that there are just some people out there who will never be loved. What I'm talking about is those of us who are Forever Singleton.

I have finally smacked myself out of denial and while I am not at acceptance, I at least admit this truth exists.

You would think that someone who was married for twenty years could claim to have been loved, but if that was love, I'd rather not have any, thank you.

I am no end of amused at books like "The Rules". These books are written for pretty girls with no skillz. They do exist. I know a couple, actually. The one written for me is "He's Just Not That Into You."

You are reading something written by a woman who made up a boyfriend when she was in the eighth grade. In sixth grade, I asked Al Brockwell to be my boyfriend and he said he would. And then I chased him all over the playground. Then he chased me. In sixth grade, if a boy really likes you, he throws rocks at you and mostly misses. In seventh grade, someone tied my belt to my desk. I don't think they equate.

My mother was terrified of being alone. I think some of that may have superficially rubbed off on me, but not much. Her terror exasperated me and I set about proving that I needed no one.

Damn lucky how that worked out.