"I’ll never be a bride.
It’s not something I’m guessing, it’s just something I know for sure.
You know that felling when you look at that special person and all you want to do is hug and kiss them like there’s no tomorrow?
Well, once I had that feeling. Not anymore, my dear.
You see, people are stupid. How can you possibly get married to someone and pretend that you’re going to stay together and live happily ever after while most of the couples are getting divorced?
Seriously. I just don’t get it. This cuddling thing, holding hands, and whispering silly nothings in one’s ear… it just seem too frivolous and foolish.
I’m 25 right now. Yeah, I’ve already made out and dated guys but nothing more than that. I’ve never been in a long term relationship. I don’t know why.
Maybe that’s because I’m bossy, stubborn and most of all, selfish. Sure, I’m not that smart, not that creative nor funny. I’m not some kind of beauty too, you know? Maybe it’s because of my hair, my strange body, my face that looks like a square…
… Everything, really.
You see. Today I went to a friend’s wedding. The bride is really nice, you know. She’s pretty, funny and a freaking genius. She’ll be the best mother ever, probably. And then there is her husband, a really nice guy from a good family. They met each other in a coffee house. They started talking, exchanged cellphones and suddenly, poof! They fell in love and 3 years after that he asked her to marry
Fuck that. I don’t need it. I don’t need everybody smiling at me while I look beautiful in that white dress like that’s the best day of my life. I don’t need a companion, someone who I can count on for the rest of this damn life. I just don’t.
There’s a part of me that thinks it’d be kind of nice having someone but then again, it wouldn’t work out because I know that everything in this world finishes someday and that love… love is just something Walt Disney invented to make us feel better about ourselves. All those stories about Charming Princes and pure love… Bullshit.
Maybe, just maybe, while I’m writing this I’m drinking. Not that much, I think it was just two bottles of some cheap English beer.
Maybe I’m crying, but I can’t tell it because I just don’t care anymore. Although I can assure you this paper was dry when I started writing in it. There must be a leak in the roof or something like that.
And maybe, just maybe, I wish things were different for me. I wish that instead of choosing my career I had chosen to stay with you. Probably you would be marrying me instead of the coffee shop girl."