tumblinas.

Seriously, what are you waiting for?

At some point, it’s like - Tell me what on earth you are waiting for?  I want to scream it legitimately, without manipulation, without trying to score any points.  I want an answer. Do you think there’s a chance that we might be temporary, might still wander off on our separate ways? Because you say that’s an impossibility.  You say Forever but your actions add this tiny, italic probably.   

I don’t understand how long you intend to stand at the edge of this plank and assess the depth and temperature of the water below.   You climbed up here to dive in, right? Are you waiting to see if I change for the better or for the worse?  Are you waiting to see if something shinier comes along?  

Let me make it clear how much I loathe playing this role.  This bullshit, leaving-the-man-in-charge-of-my-destiny, waiting to be chosen arrangement is humiliating.  I was fine on my own. Fine. I was not looking for this, but now that all this happiness is here, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life tiptoeing around it.  I want it. Forever. But this stereotypical costume of Woman Waiting for Commitment fucking chafes. There is no diamond ring I want, I have no desire to just be married in general:  Only a very specific desire to finally, firmly sew my lot in life to yours.  

And I’m starting to wonder what about me is not good enough, not magnetic enough to make you eager to do the same.