I’ve always fancied myself a single gal. I’m not a relationship person. I’ve had a series of one to two month relationships, in which I get bored, or am unable to make an attachment to the man and I simply move on. Sure I’ve had “real” boyfriends, but without going into great detail IT NEVER WORKS OUT!
It’s entirely possible I have a distorted view of relationships. My parents have been married for 33 years. Are they happy? I have no idea. I haven’t seen them kiss or hug one another in years. They’re most certainly happy enough. But I don’t want happy enough.
And my friends?
My married girlfriends bitch about their husbands; my married male friends bitch about their wives. I can’t think of one happily married couple. I can think of plenty of semi-happily married couples. Is bitching about your partner part of a happy marriage? I DON’T KNOW! See why my views on the institution of marriage are slightly dismal?
But then yesterday I saw something that shook me to the core. I saw an elderly couple kissing one another at the bus stop. The kiss itself wasn’t shocking. It was quite possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I felt like I was intruding on a private moment and that I should look away. But I didn’t. I sat and stared. The light turned green, but I didn’t drive away. The light turned yellow and still I didn’t move. Multiple cars were honking at me, but I was frozen. Frozen in someone else’s moment. Finally they looked up to see what the commotion was. At that point I regained composure and quickly drove away.
I thought I’d never say this, but I want that. I want relationship longevity. I want to still, at the ripe old age of ninety, love a man enough to kiss him in broad daylight on a busy downtown street, and not care about who is watching.