- “I have someone I’d like you to meet,” says Well-Meaning Friend. “He’s smart and nice.”
- “I’m not ready, but thank you,” I answer.
- “You need someone to go through this with,” insists Well-Meaning Friend.
- “I’m not bringing my ex into anyone else’s life,” I return.
- “We aren’t meant to be alone. We gravitate to others. You won’t be bringing your ex into someone else’s life. You will be bringing someone into your life,” WMF tries to convince.
- “Still, it’s only been 2 years since I left him and 2 months since my divorce,” I answer.
- “But you’re divorced officially now. Don’t you want to meet someone?” ponders WMF.
No. I don’t want to meet someone. I have no interest in finding a life partner. I’m one of Them seriously considering this new-fangled trend called self-marriage.
There’s no man-hating element to this. I have a dad, cousins, brother & brother-in-law, and uncles. I have friends and co-workers of the three-legged variety. Most men I interact with are generally kind people: fathers who pick up their kids from school, brothers who help their sisters study for an exam, guys who cut grass, change AC filters, wash clothes or dishes, and keep their listening ears on even when the TV is on.
I know men who hurt when people hurt, men who would murder to keep their family from the pains of a home invasion, men who prefer partnership over domination, respect over obligation, love over hate; men who hold a woman’s hand while she labors for 12 hours to birth their child, and forego sleep, dinner, and his favorite television show to witness the first breath of a child.
But I don’t want any of these men.
I don’t want any kind of man (or woman either). I don’t want to share my bed, or go back to picking up after an adult. I don’t want to have to go to action movies just to be able to go to a chic-flick eventually. I don’t want to wash any more laundry or dishes than I already do.
I don’t want to touch anyone and I don’t want anyone touching me. I don’t want to laugh with anyone. I don’t want to cry with anyone. I don’t want to bring my ex into anyone else’s life, or bring anyone else into my kids’ life.
I am not a single package. I come with a freightliner full of baggage. I am at the helm of my ship sailing to lands unknown. Alone. And, that’s ok.
In all seriousness, tho, I have the choice on channel and temperature.
And, if I have to buy a cat to be accepted as a non-married adult-woman, so be it.