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Another Middle Aged Rant...

I don't know if I'm depressed, but I'm not feeling like myself today. I'm realizing that these feelings of malaise always come after I witness love -- and realize how much I stand in the way of my own.

I went to a wedding yesterday. One of my coworkers said, "I do," to her longtime boyfriend. She's one of the cutest, most petite women I've ever known. I'd seen photos of him, but had never met him. He's definitely a cutie, but when I say he was larger than life, I mean that in every sense of the word.

I was so shocked. I never would've put those two together, but they both looked super happy. Their joy was palatable. I was glad I got to witness it.

There were several couples in attendance. Some looked evenly matched, some not. All seemed happy.

Then there's me. My birthday is approaching next month and I'll celebrate 55 years around the sun. Glad to be alive, certainly, but can't for the life of me figure out how I became so unloveable. 

Maybe I'm too superficial.

Maybe I'm too picky.

Maybe I want too much.

Maybe love and companionship just aren't in the cards for me.

Maybe I should just give up and resign myself to catladydom.

I don't know. 

What I do know is that I want to be with someone who sees me for more than I see myself. 

I also hope that one day I won't end up alone with only my memories from a life well-lived to keep me warm.

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