It is now officially The Fall. And no, I haven't met a guy that I could imagine being with for the rest of my life. So the psychic was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time a psychic was off the mark.
I won't lie that yesterday was pretty depressing. I was at a wedding, so it shouldn't have been, but it was for me. I feel awful that I may have sucked some of the joy out of someone else's happy day.
I feel like I've done a pretty good job with everything in my life so far. I feel like I deserve to find happiness and love with someone who isn't emotionally cripple. I don't think it's asking for too much. There seem to be plenty of people who get there who have it and who don't necessarily deserve it.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Save it, Oh Miserable One. Stop being so melodramatic. You're not dying. How many times have I heard it? I'm young, I'll have my day and blah blah blah. Well fuck that. I'm sick of waiting. While I've made my own happiness, I'm really tired I've doing this on my own.
But I have no choice. For whatever reason, it's not my time. I need to just accept it and stop bitching about it. I'm sure you're all growing tired of my very anti-climactic search for love. I sure as hell have.
Today marks two months until my 27th birthday. Let the new countdown that launches me from my mid 20's into my late 20's officially begin.
I feel sick.