I haven’t written in almost a month. It’s not because I’m blocked. It’s because I’m torn.
I’m torn between wanting kiss my ex-beau and yet wanting to shake him till his eyes rattle around in his head.
I’m torn between wanting to live “chastely in singlehood” (a new edict by the Presbyterian church for all people who want to attain positions of respect and power therein) and yet wanting to go out and have incredible escapades with any of half a dozen guys.
Between my desire to be a good girl, and my desire to party it up.
Between being the sweet, understanding one and wanting to be a bitch on wheels.
Between wanting to be young and single and wanting to be married and pregnant.
I feel like I’m 12 years old again. My hormones are in full force but I’m not really sure what to do with them. I’m an adviser for the junior high youth group at my church and when I look at the girls I see myself mirrored in them.
A lot of this probably stems from the fact that I’m single again after four years of monogamy. It’s really quite a change. The last time I didn’t have a long-term boyfriend (or a serious beau) I was 20 years old.
My roommate doesn’t understand why I’m not pursuing a full-time romantic relationship when he knows (and I know) that’s what I want. His suggestion is “Go for it.” This week he said, “Lynn, I hope you’re not just holding out for the perfect man because you’re never going to find him.”
But why should I give my time, my effort and myself to a specific man if I’m not certain he’s the one I really want to be with?
It’s tough when your greatest fear is that of being alone, but you’re not sure your attention span will ever allow you to spend the rest of your life with just one person, despite the fact that your number-one goal in life is to be pregnant and have babies and you know you couldn’t do that without companionship.
Ugh. Is this why women start drinking?
I thought so.