Introspection.

It's coming up on 2 AM, and I'm sitting wrapped in a blanket in my empty house, listening to the rain pound on the skylight above me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm antisocial. It's not that I don't like being around people; I just feel most comfortable alone. It's not like I couldn't have gone out with friends tonight; instead, I chose to pick up dinner by myself and hang out in an empty house. Something tells me it would be socially normal to be disturbed by this, but I just can't bring myself to see things that way. In all honestly, I am wonderfully content all on my own.

This is why I feel so detached from the concept of marriage/perpetual companionship. I am extremely self-sufficient. I don't need anyone taking care of me or otherwise making sure my needs are met--I'm just fine, thank you very much. Constantly, I observe classic BYU couples, noting the way each individual seems to rely so fully on his or her counterpart, and I am physically unable to comprehend participating in a situation like that. I feel like those starry-eyed and emotionally immature girls could never in a million years be me--it's just such a distant and unfamiliar symbiosis from which even as an observer I feel entirely dissociated. I don't want it.

If it weren't for my culture's intense emphasis on marriage, I wouldn't worry about this--I feel like I could be perfectly happy navigating life on my own. Because marriage is considered to be so important, however, I sometimes worry about meeting someone who I could be happy with (and who could be happy with me). I'm low-maintenance; if I have to get married, all I want is someone loyal, smart, reasonable, and halfway amiable. I'll take care of myself, and he can take care of himself, okay? I don't need (or want) someone fawning over me all the time--just someone who cares to be around me, can provide me with intelligent conversation, and is simply a decent person. Someone who might sit with me in this blanket under the skylight--silent, with no expectations.