"Why do you always seem inevitable to me?"-Orange is the New Black

I re-read my old journals. From college, after college, pre- and post-divorce, pre-love, post-love. I scour the soft pages, worn from reading and writing, looking for the point in my heart where I began to realize that being alone might be my "inevitable". 

I don't see it.

Am I a fool? Am I missing something? I know they say hindsight is 20/20, but as I re-read my heart on these pages, I feel like I was always on this crash course towards something mind-blowing, awe-inspiring, nothing-short-of-amazing. 

But maybe I am still a tad naive. Maybe that hasn't been torn out of me yet. Maybe I am living in a fantasy world.... too demented and bleached by a childhood of fairy tales, a youth of angst-filled music & happy-ending romantic comedies.....

I want to believe these things, sugar-coated and sweet to the taste. That honesty is alive and well. That loyalty is a foundation to grow a relationship on. That trust is something to carry carefully in the palm of your hand, and once earned, won't be shoved in the pocket of your pants or to the back of your closet somewhere. 
That all these things are strong enough, on both ends, to last a lifetime. 

I want to reject the seed of doubt, the bitter pill growing in my stomach, that tells me in a quiet whisper (especially at 3am) that I was meant to be alone. That there is no one out there that will deal with my independent, intelligent, kind-hearted self. That I deserve to be broken down. That I am expecting too much. That I am ridiculously naive to have longing for my uncompromise-ables: honesty, loyalty, compassion, affection. That I should just wake up,
             grow up,
                          give up. 

And here's where my "I have hope" attitude would pipe up: "There's always hope" or "Of course you deserve the best and it's out there" or "Don't ever give up". 

And then the sad, broken, tattered, almost-bitter me says: "Shut the fuck up. Give it a rest. Just move on. You have an amazing child, an amazing career, your health, your own home. What the hell makes you think you deserve more? Just shut the hell up."

I am exhausted by this. 

When is enough enough? When do I call it quits?

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