Time to ‘fess up.

Here is my confession (or one of them, at least).

Sometimes, late at night – when the lights, music and laptop have all been switched off – I’ll lie in bed and think to myself, “This is it. This is all there will ever be. Just me, alone in a bed too big for one person.”

It’s a little embarrassing to admit this, but there it is: late at night, when my guard is down, when it’s just me and my semi-drowsy thoughts in that twilight moment before sleep takes hold, I fear that I’ll never have love in my life again. I fear that there is no lasting romance in my future, no happy marriage, no family of my own.

Not all of us are lucky enough to find love.

Not all of us are lucky enough to find love more than once.

Because here’s the thing, the really crazy thing (and I KNOW this is crazy): I’m superstitious enough to believe that life and the Universe may want to punish me for walking away from the man who spent eight years of his very young life loving me and putting up with all my weirdness, my passive-aggressive behaviour, my inability to adequately communicate what I want. I’m superstitious enough to believe that I’ll get what’s coming to me for walking away from someone who, by the standards of the culture and society I was born into, is a total catch.

But he wasn’t the right man for me. Staying with him would have been settling for ‘good enough’.

I have been made to understand that most girls wouldn’t have ended the relationship. They would have stayed. They would have settled for ‘good enough’.

I believed (and still believe) that I’m too young to be settling for ‘good enough’.

My fear, however, is that I will wake up alone one day and realise that I was absolutely wrong, that I should have settled for good enough.

So here I am, right back to square one. I am right back to where I was at the age of 18, when I said this to the boy who would one day become Boyfriend, and is now He Who Was Formerly Known As Boyfriend (are you keeping up?):

I love my life. It’s going rather well, if I do say so myself. I don’t want for anything.

It’s just that, it’d be nice to share it with someone, you know?

 

This is my confession. What’s yours? I’d love to hear about it – share in the comments, or shoot me an e-mail at raihanaaaa [at] gmail [dot] com. 

 

 

 

 

 

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