Nothing is certain.

So I was rolling around in bed last night and I had a mild epiphany:

I think I've shut up shop. With men. with romance. Twu Wuv. I'm not looking to replace what I had before, I don't even know how how to go about replicating something like that and you know I've had a good run. No matter what I've said about it - it was a good run and how many people can say they've had a relationship like that -so I won't push my luck with God/Allah/Og/Tree Nymphs any further and ask for anything more.

And that's that. Shop is shut.

And then I rolled around some more.

And then a traitorous voice in my head says "Ok, you've decided to be alone. And you're okay to be alone... Hell we hear you on the mountain screaming about being an independent woman like an ethnically challenged Beyonce impersonator. But here's the question: Do you like being alone?

Small voice: No. Don't ask me anymore questions.

Well then what are you? a masochist?

No, I am not alone. I have friends!

Traitorous voice says sarcastically: The princess's friends in the fairytales never rescued her.

You are a traitorous voice! and you are created by society to make me believe that I'm deficient because I don't have an 'other'. And the shop is shut! It's decided! So go away!

Traitorous voice: Fine. Don't come looking for me when you're old and mental and talking to wooden spoons and paper plates. If I come back it's only going to be to say I told you so.

I roll over again, independence is one thing, being alone is another. I waver in my certainty.

I look at the clock. Fuck. It's four thirty in the morning. I have been arguing with myself for close to six hours. Apparently I've already gone cuckoo and I haven't lobbed thirty yet. Sixty more years of argumentative insomnia to go.

--

In the morning [three hours later] I don't feel very much more awake but I'm a bit more sure. I chew over it while staring at the computer monitor at work. I don't want to ask any of my friends because I don't want to hear reassuring responses about how Mark Ruffalo is waiting for me at the convenience store. He's not and I don't really believe it. The person to give me an honest response is always my mum.

--
And then I forget sometimes that my choices also affect her to some degree. So when I sat next to her at the dinner table tonight, I mentally palm slapped myself. Of course, she wants me to be in a stable relationship so she can worry less. Forever in her eyes, I'm nine and a half years old. You want to entrust your nine and a half year old to someone responsible in the event that one day God wants you to leave the building.

So I could only phrase it as delicately as I can. "Mum, what if I decide that I want to be alone? Are you ok with that?"

She looked like she was sort of expecting the question. "Well, I want you to do whatever makes you happy"

"Grandkids? Are they a big deal?"

She shakes her head "No, just live your life as best as you can live it."

I can't tell if this conversation is making me relieved or sad.

---

[An hour later]
My aunty looks at my palm and goes "Hey, you've got a really long life!" [Another sixty years to argue with myself? Right on the money.]

"Oh?" I say "How's my love life?"

"Late," She says studying it. "See this? theres no line until the middle. Nothing happens until much later. But you know? No rush." She turns over my hand. "And, see this line? and this one? Two kids. First one is very certain, second one you have to decide the fate of that one."

I turn to my mum, "Your grandkids are still somewhere in my palm."

She smiles.