If I had to pick an adjective that described me in love it would be "forgiving".
I used to find articles geared toward creating "rules" for relationships ridiculous; as if love was something that would follow some "natural" order and that the ensuing chaos would be something I might welcome in my life- wild, unkempt, cathartic. Now, wandering closer to my thirties, I know better.
Articles that address my generation seem to bounce between two extremes - arguing for cases of monogamy and traditional, nuclear households or fleeting, experiences of falling in love in a grandiose, irresponsible way- the "freedom" to love whomever you choose. As if the chance for romantic love is a perpetual state of being when in proximity to other human beings.
I spent Valentine's alone, as I do each year. The only difference is that last year and this year my Facebook status displayed "in a relationship" but neither time was I acknowledged by either "boyfriend". It seems like a funny joke that keeps being played on me. It's almost impossible in a way to just not feel downright defective. I'm bewildered in a way - do I keep dating the same man, or do I just keep making the same mistakes? Romance feels less hopeful once you think you have a future and then you just watch it fall apart.
But of course this is my fault.
“There are only two types of women: goddesses and doormats.”
