I’m the last one.
The last of a huge family, the last who hasn’t gotten married. Everyone else: married.
I’m the last one without kids. The last one who hasn’t even been engaged.
How should I feel about this?
I’m the last lonely one. The legacy that will never extend.
Not by choice. Most definitely not. It’s just the way God wants it.
I’m supposed to say “hey, What God Wants… God Gets.’
I’m supposed to pray “help me, help myself”
so… maybe he’ll list to my blog.
Whatever. I’ve become too numb, because if I left myself feel this any more than the typing of these words, I’m not sure I’ll want to do anything else but curl up in a fetal ball and stare at the base boards in the bathroom.
I’m so happy for everyone.
and so sad for myself. and I feel guilty for having that selfish thought… that I’d like something for myself. Someone to share this life with. I feel GUILTY for wanting it, and guilty for not having it.