I'm Feeling 23

I really need to get over this thing about writing blog posts in my bathtub. I'm no electrical whiz, but I think eventually I'm going to end up electrocuting myself. So. Lots of things are happening right now. Lots of "yep, I definitely feel 23" things. And not in a Taylor Swift kind of way. I don't feel 23 because I'm at a club dancing with my friends. I feel 23 because I'm stuck in the middle of a career that I'm not sure that I'm crazy about, and also the fact that I just told a guy after our second date that I wasn't feeling it. For the first time. I've never done that before. I always found a way out of it...some way to brain ninja the guy into breaking it off so that I wouldn't have to be assertive and hurt someone in the process. That part is very adult of me. The bit that is most definitely 23 is that he called me on the phone to force me to tell him that way instead of over text, and I screened his call. And pretended to be in a loud bar so that I couldn't answer. See? I told you. 23.

BUT HEY, one step at a time. Me standing up for myself in respectful, understanding way despite his insistence that I was crazy and that I had no right still counts as at least one descended testicle. Maybe the other one will drop when I'm 33.

I keep worrying that this image that I have in my head about love will destroy any chance that I have at a real partner in life. I so desperately don't want to be alone for the rest of my life. But I don't want to disrespect the man that I deserve by settling for someone who doesn't feel right.

This post is going to be incredibly disjointed, I can already tell. I'm severely anemic, and as a result tachycardic, and there isn't enough blood flow to my brain. So bear with me.

Man, I'm starting to sweat. Maybe this bath thing wasn't such a good idea.

Anyway.

Romance. I think I read too many quotations. And every quotation contradicts some other quotation that I've read previously about how to look at things, and I get confused as to which one is correct. In the romance department, I've heard two opposing views:

1.) That the main thing keeping us from being happy is the idea of how things ought to be, and
2.) That you should never compromise, and that if you're patient and continue to work on yourself, the right person will come along.


As a habitual fantasy and sci-fi junkie, I can tell you that numero uno definitely might maybe a little bit have a point. My imagination is constantly stoked by stories of heroics and rescues, and people who are so certain of every step that they take. When I wake up the next morning to go take a test on a subject that I don't care about, in a field that I'm unsure of, where I DVR Oprah's Super Soul Sunday just to find SOMETHING inspirational about the world around me...I feel unsatisfied. To say the least. And I see people who are okay with this life, and wonder if maybe I've put myself at a disadvantage by already deciding how things ought to be. Everyone seems to be okay about the way things are. Everyone seems alright with marrying a person that doesn't inspire them, and make them better. There are times when I think that settling romantically is wrong, but when I'm alone on a Saturday night and they are making dinner for their families, I wonder.

I doubt all the time if I'm doing the right thing. I wish more than anything that Old Mother Willow would sprout up in the courtyard of my apartment to tell me which way was right.

The only thing I can really do is imagine what kind of woman I'd want to present as a role model for the daughter that I hope to have some day. If I end up never having kids, the fact that I used fictitious children as a moral compass in my youth is going t be extra weird. But I digress. I would want my daughter to believe that marriage is sacred, and that whoever enters in to it with her had better give her the most beautiful love story in the history of the world. I shutter to think what my reaction would be if Future Daughter told me that she was marrying a man who looked fantastic on paper, but didn't make her feel like a better person. It's simple addition, I suppose. 1+1=2. The right man shouldn't make you feel like less than you are, or even just the same. He should make you feel like you've gained SOMETHING.

God, that paragraph was perhaps the most embarrassing paragraph I've ever written. I'm sweating profusely from this bath, on top of my severe anemia/limited brain perfusion, so I'm just going to keep reminding you of that in the hopes that you will humor me in pretending like that didn't just happen. I'm almost positive that 1+1=2 is a One Direction song. Maybe I am in the right field...nurses don't need to be able to write prose. Oi.

Anyway, I'm too dehydrated at this point to continue putting words together cohesively, so my point is this: I'm 23, and I have NO IDEA what I'm doing in any aspect of my life. I have NO IDEA what the right answer is. Intuition seems to be a little shady of a thing to rely on, yet common folk wisdom has also proven itself to be a little dicey. I realize that my twenties aren't supposed to be worry-free, but a little stability and certainty would sure be nice. I hope I'm not the only one who feels this way.