After hearing once again, that my choice to not have kids is a deal breaker, I settled into a mood like a ratty recliner, convinced that the hypothetical love of non-existent children would keep me surrounded by friends, the occasional lover, but no true mate. My desires in a partner seem to pair me with mismatches. Either it's a personality conflict, a work schedule, receptiveness to love, or a preference for inexclusivity, my experiences and near misses tend to be more along the lines of an octogon in a round hole. So close. So much so that it's perhas more frustrating than being a complete failure.
And, while I was wallowing in the feelings of solitude that I was imposing on myself, I had the thought that was a strange sort of comfort. Perhaps my 30s and middle 40s will be spent alone, while those who want to pair bond with someone who plans to breed settle with their mates. It will be for me to live a life that's full of the strange sort of selfishness that I preach. I can enjoy it in a way that's meaningful to me, unencumbered by the requirements and schedules of anyone except my dogs. Then, in my 40s or later, when those matches others have sought fail, or come to an end through other means, I can spend my time with someone who's sown their oats. Who isn't looking for a step mom. Whose kids are older and is looking for a second chance to live the life they want and could possibly be envious of my having lived. I predict that I won't find a partner until biology has run its course, and the option to have kids is no longer viable. My time to shine and be free is now. Perhaps I should enjoy it more than bemoan what I can't or don't have. Look on the bright side. Now's the time to play.