My motto entering my last/most current relationship was "fake it 'til ya make it." Well, after too many breakups, arguments, acts of infidelity, lies, and cases of what can be considered nothing but emotional abuse, I made it.
And it is so confusing.
I made it. I faked it for 6 months minus 4 days and now I've made it! I love him and it's comfortable. I'm not afraid to be honest about my hopes, fears, regrets, wants, and needs, and he is either there already or pretty damn close.
But now I have such a suffocatingly heavy ambivalence towards my future, I don't know what to do.
I would be perfectly content and happy to move in with him right now, have a springtime wedding, and get knocked up by summer. I would be his happy and quiet, patient and ever-supportive partner for the rest of my life.
We have lots of fun together, we are good to each other, and ... we are both young and fit and fertile and with a fair amount in common.

Arranged marriage does not sound like a bad idea. Couples learn to love each other, as I seem to have done here. Fiery romance ends in flames or smoldering, painful ashes. I'm tired. I feel like all of that which I once enjoyed--the tingling, fluttering, heart-aching bliss I've enjoyed before--is not for me. I'm just an animal: I only need a warm body, a little bit of patience, a fit supplier of sperm for when I decide to spawn, and someone to help me raise those spawn.


I am so tired of crying over D, the man I've been convinced is "the one" since I was 14, every fucking time he puts up pictures of himself with his new"the one!" girl on facebook. And there is a new girl every 2-3 months.
Tired. Not sick, not angry, not dolorous, not impassioned. I am twenty years old and I am weary from all of this. I feel it in my bones and it's like a slowly spreading cavity: a bitter emptiness that is certainly there, but I don't need to feel unless I pay attention to it.
Paulina told me two days ago that she thinks I'm going to marry him in the end. I think I'm going to settle, actually. Better to be safe than ...

I am going to Nepal in less than two weeks and I'm hoping these weeks will drag by. I want this lack of enthusiasm to pass soon because it's horrible.



All I've been doing is playing this on piano, humming the melody to myself, and wishing that my life had a clear, directed path.

Also, his parents fucking hate me now. Unexpected, undesirable plot twist.

-Camille