A Few Random Thoughts On This Topic

Ah well. So here we are. Twenty-seven years on this planet. Four years of working with the bank. Two years and nine months of being single.

What’s been happening since I last wrote on this blog? Nothing very much, to be honest.

Things are much the same. I spend too much time at the office. I don’t do very much outside office. And I don’t meet new people. Not that I don’t want to, of course, but I don’t get to.

And of course, I see Alice and her husband at work almost every day.

Funny thing is, it doesn’t make me feel anything very much anymore. My eye is still drawn to her, but that’s half out of curiosity. And a good bit out  of schadenfraude. You see, she’s put on rather a lot of weight lately. Her butt, which was always generously proportioned for her frame, has surpassed itself in recent times. Literally!

I suspect she’s expecting. And it’s a tiny bit odd, because it reminds me of the fact that we’re all getting older. Growing up. Definitely past the stage where we could behave like giddy sixteen-year-olds.

But yeah, most of the time now, seeing her (or her hubby) doesn’t make me hurt, or feel bad. Sure, I do cheerfully curse him inwardly most of the time. And yeah, on the inside, I grin an evil grin and thank my stars for having saved me from a fat wife whenever I see her. But even though I still feel a tad wistful from time to time, I’m not hurting very much, at work.

But since nothing seems to ever really come without its price, this too might have a downside. I think I’m becoming rather numb on the inside, to matters of the heart.

This is going to sound terribly melodramatic, but I’m not sure I can really open myself up to someone else, or give myself as completely to someone else as I could before, anymore.

Alright, on second thoughts, maybe I can. But I’m quite sure that I’ve completely forgotten how to, so I surmise it’ll take a bit of remembering.

This is because I’ve become awfully used to being with myself. Not having anyone to talk to about what I’m really feeling, not really opening up to anyone, not having anyone to hold when I fall asleep. Just being wholly and completely by myself.

After a point of time, I think you just put up these really high walls around you. High, and thick. I mean, how much can you let yourself get hurt? Even if you’re not making a conscious effort, maybe somewhere your psychological immune system is working overtime to get your strengthen your defenses against the  world. And maybe sometimes it works too well.

So I’ve met a bunch of girls; seven, if my memory serves me correctly (I’m a tad buzzed, hence the uncertainty. Else I’d know for sure.) I’m shortlisting profiles suggested by this matrimonial agency that my parents went and signed up with. I’ll probably be getting in touch with girls on matrimonial websites too, soon.

But I really don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m not sure I’ll feel even a moderate amount of attraction towards any of the girls whom I meet through this arranged marriage process. I might just end up marrying a girl whom I don’t feel particularly strongly about, but who ticks all the right boxes. Purely because that’ll be better than the alternative; which is dying alone. And not having very much sex. If at all. 

Ah well.