A Reveal-All Post!

I'm single. And I'm confused about how I should feel about it. Be ashamed? Be proud? Be indifferent?

People drop their jaws as if they were going to make it touch their knees when I tell them I've never had a boyfriend! It's become an unwritten rule, that if you're straight, by the time you're sixteen, you should have a boyfriend. You're pretty, ugly, too thin, just right, fat, intelligent, dumb - all irrespective. You should have a boyfriend. And it's pretty easy, because everyone manages to find handsome, ugly, too thin, just right, fat, intelligent, dumb - male counterparts too. And of course the crushes and the heartbreaks are a part of the whole affair.

Frankly, I don't want to go through it. Crushes are fine, perhaps, though I've successfully managed to not crush on even the cutest guys. (That's a philosophy I'll talk about later...) It's about the heartbreaks. I'd die if I ever got dumped, and I'm incapable of being ruthless enough to dump someone.

You meet someone. Find him cute, hot, all of it. Crush on him. Talk to him. Flirt. He reciprocates in the same manner. Be all koochee-koo all the time. Fall in love. Say that you love each other. And one fine day. Break up.
That, is anything but MY story.

Since this is a reveal-all kind of a post, here's what my scene is: Come across Mr. Right when the time is right. Find him cute, hot, all of it. Crush on him. Talk to him. Flirt. He reciprocates in the same manner. Be all koochee-koo all... err, well, sometimes. Fall in love. Say that we love each other. And one fine day. Get married. Perhaps, I'd like two nice children then.
THAT, is my story. And it's really not as boring as it looks.

I guess I still live in the era of fairy-tales. Young girls with starry eyes dream of their princes, and then the prince comes on horseback, knight in shining armour and all, rescues the damsel in distress, and they live happily ever after. I'm not rigid about the prince part, the horseback part, the knight in shining armour part, and I'm just never distressed. It's okay by me if he's just another millionaire/billionare something, comes in a Porsche/BMW/Ferrari/Maybach/Rolls-Royce/Austin Martin, clad in an Armani/YSL/Gucci/Valentino suit. Not very demanding, am I? Look at the number of options he has!

Perhaps there's no one perfect. But what can one do about stupid, unreasonable beliefs! I think there's someone who's perfect for me! SomeONE. And that's why, I'm not interested in the rest.

For more clarifications on this topic, which has been an issue of universal interest, for reasons unfathomable by the author of this post, please feel free to ask her. She will probably bore you with more mush, and you will swear never to question her stupid beliefs again.


P.S. - I have recently discovered that more people than I know of read this blog. Apologies to all the people who are subject to boring, never-ending, I-me-myself kind of posts.