I escaped work for my break and dialled my Dad at work (as is my routine every Wednesday).  His assistant patched me through and I found my Dad in a remarkably good mood.  We chit chatted about upcoming vacations, my sister’s toddler, my little bro’s new job, and all the normal topics.  And then, he asked a question about my love life.  It is a horribly dreaded question that, unfortunately, I have heard many, many times in the last few months.  Usually, I answer it blandly with a ‘fine’ or an ‘okay’ or anything-that’s-not-the-truth-but-also-not-a-lie.  Not so… Instead, I admitted to my father that I’ve found myself in the relationship that no girl ever wants to be in – the we’re-going-nowhere-but-at-least-we’re-not-in-a-hurry-to-get-there relationship.  It’s the basic plotline: I want to get married + he does not want to get married = eventual break-up.  When?  I don’t know and I guess it doesn’t particularly matter.  Whenever I feel like it, I suppose.  Why did I tell my Dad? 

Truthfully?  I was beginning to worry.  I think my parents might have been hearing wedding bells where there are no wedding bells to hear.  I told my parents a very long time ago two things about my future: 1. I am never having children, 2. I am not interested in getting married.

These are both still true – sort of.  Is it my fault that I fell in love with a person I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with?  I don’t know – probably.  And being in love makes me want to get married.  I like being in love.  It’s nice.  And who wouldn’t want to have nice things for the rest of their lives?  I don’t know anyone.  But, he’s not in love with me.  I mean, he loves me, but there’s a difference and I know it – sort of.  I can say it, but it doesn’t mean I believe it. 

Bottom line:  There’s a large part of me that’s delusional and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t deluding my parents as well.  The End.