I was asked again today why I’m not married. I was asked in the “I think you’re great, how come you haven’t been snapped up” kind of way. Well, that’s great. I really am glad that some people think I’m appealing, but ultimately it makes me mad. These days I usually give the excuse “I’m picky.” I am. I’m too scared and scarred not to be. People, including myself, are not always very careful with the hearts of others. Carelessness so often leads to things being broken. The same person also made a comment that equated to “You’re tough, for a girl.” An hour later a different man was attempting to manage me, trying to convince me that my insistence on extreme care was unnecessary.
When I find a man that doesn’t try to manage me, that takes great care with me, that realizes I’m strong as spider webs and just as delicate, that will hold my hand in the dark hours, and tell me stories to escape into, then I will marry (or not). I just hope I will be and do all those things for him.
This is what happens when the TV breaks and I lose my Netflix movies.
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