I’m 27 and a half years old. What a mature age.
I know exactly that my mom, at the same age, had had 2 kids already, my brother and me. And I know exactly that the friends my age are getting married, or having toddlers. I know eaxtly that they are also having blast careers with awesome abroad trainings. All the things that I don’t have.
I used to imagine that I’d be a wife of Mr. X within my 27 years of age, and that I’d be pregnant with our first son. Oh yes, son. I always want a baby boy as the first kid in my imaginative family. But it’s not the point. The point is that I used to imagine that in 10 years (I was like 17 when the urge to have a family of my own started to pop in my mind) I’d be settle, and happily waiting for my first baby boy.
It is not happening at all. The fact is that I am as single as fuck and I have to deal with it.
Back to my teens times, the only love story that I had was unrequitted love, not only on my side, but also from the boys who liked me. The boys that I liked didn’t like me, and the boys that liked me, I didn’t like them back.
I thought: “Well, I’m still young, I’ve got pleanty of time left and he will come eventually.. Maybe in my 20s, like after I graduate uni or at least 24… Then I’ll get married with my first bf and have kid on my 27…” And so I continued my life.
Uni. Nothing exciting happened. Yes, one boy asekd me out, but the fact that he had a girlfriend during that time made me feel like I was a naughty girl if I agreed to date him. He once tried to grab my hand but I slapped his hand and he got angry. Oh, young people…. But I had such a great fun during uni! I survive the loneliness due to this.
Workplace. Finally, someone approached me. But.. he was like 10 years older and black skin (I am not racist, but I do prefer fair skin to be the father of my kids. I know how Indonesian percieve skin color and don’t want my kids to feel bad for what they got from their parents. I am being realistic here) and not so bright careeer and not so decent education background. But, I was desperately wanted a boyfriend and he was kinda sweet. Well, he was sweet and understanding and oh-so-mature. Turned out he was just an asshole looking for wife, who was ready to marry anyone who wanted to marry him. But I didn’t.
Postgraduate life. I fell for a friend at campus, who was a player with a history of severe heartache. But I didn’t know about it until he opened up to me. Well, at first I misunderstood his closeness to me, thinking that he was interested in me. Well, no. I was just a bro for him. Totally bro-zoned. But then, I could move on and enjoy the friendship. And I really thankful for the other great friends I have now.
Then one man, totally new person, came in, had known each other only in 2 months, being close only for a month, and we decided to go on a try, knowing that each other had enough with past experiences. But, DANG! I was left broken hearted again. Only after two weeks of dating!!!
When I thought nothing will ever happened again, another one came and confess. You know the story. He’s up there in Europe, I’m down here in Jakarta, time difference… The only thing that can connect us is technology. But, He seems pretty occupied with job that he didn’t even bother to contact, not even a single Hi for two whole weeks.
Well, he said he’d be busy and I understood, so I didn’t bother him. When he finished the crazy weeks, he contacted me and I replied at appropriate time (not in the middle of the Europe night). And he just read my messages without replying. And by messages I mean only two lines: “what happened in office?” because he said it was a nightmare and “I am taking a break from thesis” because he asked me about my thesis. Obviously not that kind of freakish flood of messages popping up his phone every fuckin second. So I asked him again after two days of no reply: “got busy again?” Still no answer even after another two days.
Am I interested in him? All I can say is that I honestly wanted to know how far we could go. Which, I kinda know the answer now.
So, have you ever been in a condition when shit happened again and again and you get bored of it and just stop wanting it? I guess it happened to me now. Finally, I am so bored of men. Not interested to try to attract men anymore. Don’t even think that I’d end up with one.
Maybe I’m bitter. Maybe I have lost hope. So I build this defense mechanism that can prevent me from deeper pain. The pain of feeling unwanted and being disappointed over and over again. By shielding myself from further false hope which only bring pain to myself, I can protect me and move on.
So, goodbye dream, and hello fact. I am ready to survive.