The Old Romance

I know what I want.
This seems to be the problem.

The whole…I want to be a nurse, wife and mother ordeal. So cliche, right? So boring.
But it’s what I want. Honestly. Truly.

I met someone with similar life goals: married by 25, kids by 27.
But he is insane. Truly, truly. He invited me to come visit him in Florida–Florida!!–on a whim. Or perhaps not on a whim. I cannot tell.
But I think he did because he doesn’t want to be alone, and who can blame him, really? Who wants to be alone?
But I loathe extravagance.  And the gesture is unfathomable to me.
And I’m not a big fan of myself, either, quite frankly. I am not good company; not aesthetic enough to attract the earnest attractions of someone. And etc etc in that self-deprecating fashion.

The shiny new toy. The novelty of Jersey girls wears off quickly.