I am comfortable single.
I am not miserable alone.
If anything, I seem to enjoy life now more than ever.
I have my home that is my own.
I am not sure I want to let anyone in.
I have my son, Mathew.
And I cherish our moments together, just the two of us.
I am not sure I want to make it three (just yet).
I am successful at work.
I have plenty of loving and giving friends.
I have brothers and family that care immensely.
I have a devoted and adoring dog, Harley.
Explain to me again why I need a man.
Maybe I'm just forgetting the comforts of being with someone.
Maybe I'm sabotaging any potential suitor.
Maybe I'm just rationalizing my overwhelming desire in being alone.
Maybe I'm just scared.
Maybe it's just a necessity.
No matter how good my single life is or can be I know I want someone in my life and overall I prefer not to be single. But truthfully, I'm in no rush, I don't feel the "need" at this moment, and I can honestly say I'm happy just the way things are...Mathew, Harley and me!
Before I go, let me leave you with this:
Boob job anyone?
After having huge breasts (B-C cup) during pregnancy and breastfeeding, I've developed a stronger sense of pride and confidence in my itty bitty titties (barely A). This does not discount my momentary lapses of insecurity. And now that someone I know is getting it done, there is this teensy weensy creeping idea. As temporary and fleeting as this idea might be, it's still there. I just can't help and think, wouldn't it be nice?
Then I realize that I am proud of me, all of me, inside and out. I suppose my self-confidence outweighs the teeny weensy insecurity of my itty bitty titties!
Plus, there's always Victoria's Secret!