01 July 2015

The Myth of the Cat Lady

So much has happened in the months since my last post. Maybe it's something about the fresh, unsullied beginning of a new month that makes me want to write something to remember the old one by, but lately, time has been the enemy. 

I believe there's a quote that says 'Time is the enemy of youth' (and if there isn't, there is one now.) 
That's been on my mind lately. 

I'll be 25 this birthday - and a far cry from the angry 18 year old who started this blog. I wonder sometimes at how easy it is to forget years - whole years of my life where I remember nothing but single, isolated moments. I feel like I go through phases where I'm obsessed with specific things (probably everyone does...) 

But of all the stupid, insignificant things that have been on my mind in the past few months, my ongoing singledom has been the most prominent. 

How ridiculous is that?

I thought about it this morning and realised that it's not really that I want to share my life with someone. In fact, I probably don't want to share anything - especially not my time, with anyone at all. The feeling of fear and anxiety comes from loss. 

I'm secretly afraid of what I'm losing. 

My friends are disappearing. They're getting married, getting pregnant, and getting away into a world where I can't follow. 

In five years, or ten, they'll be completely gone - out of my reach with families of their own. 

Who will I travel with? Who will I hang out with on weekends? Who will I complain about adulthood to? 

Who will be my friend? 

That's what I'm afraid of - not being 'single', but of what being single represents. Of being left out of something that everyone's going into. 

I thought we'd all be going towards the same things at the same pace forever. Or maybe I only hoped that that would be the case. Instead, I feel like we're going our separate ways gradually - so gradually you wouldn't even think so at first. 

I don't personally know if I can manage to be with someone long term. I have no idea what I'd do if I was in love. I know I have the capacity to love someone genuinely, and with my whole heart - but who knows what would come of that? 

It's the loss of my friendships that scares me. Love itself is a mythical thing, like magic, or unicorns. It might just be real - but who really can tell?  

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