A confession

It takes tons and tons of courage to admit to the world that I only had one serious relationship with a guy on real-time 15 years ago. We lasted a year. The next relationship I had took place a decade later over the internet. I woke up one day to a glum English climate enlightened and decided to end the three year torture for one reason: I’ve just had enough.

By the way, I’m 35 years old.

I had two failed relationships. (Thank God we’re not talking of failed marriages yet.) I do not blame these two men for my misery for I know deep inside that they were nice guys. But our circumstances varied from one another and we simply couldn’t fix it because we just didn’t know how.

I know at this stage in my life these relational issues should be the least of my concerns. Apparently, it wasn’t. I can be as dumb as any 14-year-old you can find in the planet who couldn’t think straight in the presence of gorgeousness. As a matter of fact, the more I get older, the more things get complicated.

I started the year officially as a single person with a resolution to remain unmarried for the rest of my life. I disliked the idea of doing household chores, taking care of kids, slaving for a husband who often take your for granted, and juggling a career on the other hand. This picture of good wife and mother scares me because I felt inadequate, inept and undomesticated in many aspects. I treasure my independence like an authentic Michael Jordan trading card my brother framed and kept in his closet. It’s priceless; not even Mastercard can buy it.

But sometimes loneliness stabs at the back when you least expect it. Watching Enchanted a dozen of times and listening to its soundtrack “So Close” bring out the romantic person in me. And my imagination scanned every male friend I know who might just fit the bill…and God forgive me, there’s actually one who just did.