It’s Official. I Am The Last Of My Close Friends From High School, College And Young Adult Life To Not Be Engaged, Married, Divorced Or A Parent.
With The Exceptions Of My Dogs of Course. I Realized At The Most Recent Baby Shower I Attended That I Look At Puppies The Way Most Women Look At Babies.
I Am Mesmerized. I Imagine All Of The Things We Will Do Together As They Grow.
Long Walks. Playing Catch. Watching Them Make Friends. Pretty Much The Same Thing Mother’s Envision For Their Children.
I Was Not The Girl That Always Dreamed Of Being Married And Having Children Complete With A White Picket Fence.
I Did Assume That By This Point In Time I Would’ve Had At Least Two Shotgun Weddings. And Divorces.
I LOVE The Idea Of Love. Of Passion. The Kind Of Love That Alec Baldwin And Kim Basinger Had in “The Marrying Man”. Which Certainly Carried Over Into Real Life. And Then Became An Enormous Train Wreck.
In Fact Most Couples I Have Fancied Seem To Have Similar Such Patterns. Frank Sinatra And Ava Gardner Used to Get Hammered And Shoot Out Lamp Posts In The Middle Of The Night. They Broke Up More Often Than They Were Together, If That Even Makes Sense. He Even Tried To Kill Himself After Writing “I’m A Fool To Want You”.
Perhaps This Explains My Fear of Commitment. I Love Men. I Love The Company Of Men. But Only To A Certain Point As Of Yet. The Idea Of ‘Forever’ TERRIFIES Me.
But Lately, I’m Beginning To Wonder. Is It Really Just Me And My Own Insecurities? Or Is It The Lack Of Actual Connection. Especially In Los Angeles. A City Filled With People Always Searching For The B.B.D. (Bigger And Better Deal. I learned That From The 80’s Film Classic “Hardbodies”).
Whatever The Case, I Still Believe.
There Has To Be A Tommy Lee To My Pamela Anderson.
There I Go Again.
And Just For The Record, If I Do Get Married, My Husband Is Going To Be Just As Excited As I Am To Have “Love Song” By Tesla Playing As I Walk Down The Aisle.
I Guess The Grass Is Always Greener. Unless It’s Completely Mowed.