The Love of a Good Woman

Sometimes I wish I was married. Sometimes I wish someone would come up to me, whoever it might be, and tell me this is the end.
This is a tragedy that isn’t uncommon, I know. I’m sure so many women feel that nervous ache that they just can’t keep on with the uncertainty anymore. We always long for them to commit, but we don’t want to be caged. Maybe I want the safety of that cage now. Maybe I’m just emotionally exhausted.

Yes, I’m 23. Shocking of me to have these feelings growing inside me over time. But its all relative. I have had a lot of relationships. A vast spectrum of people entering and leaving my life. Sometimes I lie in bed and wish more than anything that I had stolen myself away from all of them from the start. But I didn’t know I had value, that I was worth hiding. I just wanted to experience life and make someone happy. Sadly, it doesn’t quite happen like that. We run for love. Hold us back, and we sprint for it.

It was in finishing a section of one of Alice Munro’s short stories that I really felt the weight of romantic decision-making. She shows a moment, a pinnacle decision, and then the outcome several years later. It puts so much in perspective and honestly ached my heart. It made me think of strong decisions I’ve made, and had I continued one way, my life would have been so different. Perhaps simpler even.

I used to be so good at banishing regret. I could stare it in the eye and kill it. I prided myself on my ability to see the end of something as inevitable. That fate wanted it, so I gave it. But things feel fuzzy right now. Maybe it’s the constant blurring in my eyes that does it. But I must keep trusting that the right will triumph, and I will still follow the break in the clouds, when each complicated decision is made.

AKC x