A few weeks ago a close friend of mine, who I’ve known since high school, called me (on a less than sober night) to tell me that her boyfriend had proposed to her. Just a few hours before that I had attended a book club discussion on target=”blank” >love and relationships, and how for many people the concept of marriage is a ‘big deal’, until you finish the wedding ceremony, down a few cups of alcohol, and wake up in the morning to a: “So… this is what I signed up for?” kind of moment.

I’ve been lucky enough to witness a lot of stable relationships, one of them being my parents. So, I guess you could say I’ve never been in the front row of an unhappy marriage. A majority of my friends from high school are dating the people they plan on spending the rest of their lives with. I guess you can say I feel kind of left out.

I always thought it was funny how my friends mirrored my feelings about relationships. Half of them have no plans on settling down anytime soon. While the other half see it as a definite milestone in the near future.

Whenever someone asked me if I see myself getting married or having kids, I usually tell them I see myself with a kid but the father isn’t around. And when I think about WHY that image comes to mind, I realize it has nothing to do with how I view relationships, but my fears that there is no one on the face of the earth that will be able to love me that much.

I know it sounds incredibly masochistic, sad and ridiculous. But if you spent every waking moment with your neurotic thoughts – you would probably think that too.

Anyone who knows me will testify as to how hard I fall when I’m in love. It isn’t pretty and it normally ends up with me in tears, followed by a rant of how horrible I am, and that no one will ever love me because I’m just too crazy and difficult to deal with. Threats to smack me normally follow this long monologue.

The first boy I ever loved—maybe love isn’t the right word—we were both too young and hormone driven to really get what it meant to be in a relationship, it was also kind of emotionally abusive towards the end. My second one was just too complicated to be called a ‘relationship’, it had to have is own category – filed under – WTF.

My friend’s sister once told me that she sees me being career focused, and that I won’t settle down till I’m 30ish. She told me that about three years ago. So far… her prophecy is holding true.

For the longest time I thought I was suppose to date, find ‘the one’ and everything would turn into a semi-well-written fairy tale. But after one relationship hit the rocks really hard, I found it difficult to keep a positive outlook. Everything sucked. Everything I did felt like it was my fault. I was so scared of doing what my ex had done to me to someone else; I ended up breaking up with my then boyfriend because I loved him too much to put him through the hell of dealing with my insanity. How that conclusion came about I don’t know—I still haven’t forgiven myself for that.

Because of my decision I watched him fall in love with another woman. Watched how happy he was, watched them break up, and then waited for it all to happen again. If I’m not already on the guest list for Hell that must have been a pre-Hell party held on my behalf.

Every time I start to think about that or have the urge to complain about how horrible I feel, I want to kick myself in the ribs. Because when it comes down to it, there is no way I can ever love someone with that same intensity if I barely give myself that level of affection.

For that reason alone, I almost never want a serious relationship. Because if I were ever fortunate enough to find myself in one, I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do with it.

—Eming Piansay