Compressed. Tight. Squeezed. Damp. Dizzy.
That’s what I woke up with this morning.
At first, I thought it was hunger.
But no.
Last night I had a heated argument with my girlfriend.
Marriage.
We were talking about marriage.
Maybe I shouldn’t have started it. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up at all.
I don’t know when—if ever—I’ll be ready.
But for her, marriage has always been the dream.
Once, I told her, I don’t know… but I’ll try. I’ll work it out somehow.
She still hesitated.
She often talks about her friends getting married.
Her neighbors. Strangers I’ve never met.
Deep down, I know what she’s saying without saying it:
I want to marry as soon as possible.
But I can’t.
I’m not in a place to even think about that.
And that makes me feel guilty—because I can’t make her dream come true.
It makes me feel like a failure.
The worst part?
She doesn’t even notice how I feel—not until I spell it out in plain words.
And the thing I hate about her, if I’m being honest, is how self-centered she can be.
I want to be heard, too.
I want her to know my feelings.
I want this to be mutual.
Right now, I hate everything.
I feel like shit.
Like I’ve been beaten until every sense in my body has gone numb.