Sentencing

I love this city. I love being able to say I live in San Francisco. I love every bus ride home, looking around and knowing I belong here.

And I think by living here I've subjected myself to a life sentence of being alone. All melodrama aside, I honestly don't think I'm going to meet anyone here to share my life with. By living here, I feel like I've agreed to live alone.

Which isn't to say I can't start my own family - I certainly can. And I'm excited and joyous about the thought of having my own child to share this wonderful, incredible home with. I'm reasonably certain I can deal with doing this on my own, or I wouldn't entertain the idea in the first place. Still, it seems so terribly sad and unfair that the choice I get is learn to like being alone or stay miserable.

I wish I knew how to be more positive. I wish I knew how to believe I can get everything I want. But I can't. I have to content myself with feeling fortunate that I can get most of what I want, and be strong enough to convince myself the rest is just so much accessorizing.

So fuck you, optimists. Realism is where it's at, and it will have to do.

In my current maudlin moment, I find myself listening to "Irreplacable" by Beyonce over and over, but it's not the positive message of "I'll find someone else" I find myself absorbing so much as "You must not know 'bout me". Because seriously? If you knew 'bout me, you'd know I can handle anything. Doesn't mean I like it. Just means I can handle it. And that's not such a bad leg up on the rest of the world.