Today I’ve been a bachelorette for two years. It’s a fact. This is neither a celebration, nor a commemoration, nor a homage. This isn’t a life goal either. And this isn’t a failure.
Or is it?
I love the idea of love and am glad for those who are in a relationship they strive in. I am not sad that this isn’t my case. In practice, that isn’t for me.
I have had many happy moments in all of my past relationships and I cherish those memories. I am blessed with a selective memory that ensures I retain hardly any bitterness from the unhappy times.
There isn’t any “yet” yet. That is all. The anniversary was on my mind simply because I was reminded that there was a time when a dear friend of mine had posited that I could not be single. It may have been the case indeed, or it may have shaped what I did after, or it may not have been true. If it was, it hasn’t been for a while.