Forty One

On the subject of life-long love,

I am iffy. My poor boyfriend always knew I never saw myself in a lasting relationship. It was either me leaving or him leaving, but either way, I’d have my suitcase packed and ready for him to cheat and/or fall out of love with me. I even talked about an approximately thirty year contract before we started dating: I would be married for thirty years, and during that time, my husband and I would pool money together and whoever cracks before the 30th anniversary will lose all the money to the other person.

Harsh, right? I can suffer through it, no problem. It would also be his ticket out of the relationship once I lose my desirability and my ticket to buying that Newport beach house, distinguishing my career as a researcher, and living happily ever after with dogs as children. I will be lonely, but I can find love in all the strange corners of the world and love fiercely like each day was my last.

My boyfriend knows about my fantasy of divorce and happy aging, but he’s slowly making my desire to divorce/separate fade. He said that he would follow me even if I want to go my own way and get that beach house, attend worldwide conferences, and give Neuroscience lectures across the country. Sure. I came from a broken up family, so I’m really the “I’ll believe it when I see it” kind of person. What I know for sure is this: I don’t know how long we will last, so that is why we must love each other intensely and passionately.

Every day, he gives me a reason or I remind myself why I love him, why I should return his WeChats, why I should finish my assignment now so I can Skype him. I have this amazing ability to transform any feelings for a crush into affection for my boyfriend. The more I interact with prospective men, the more I want him to feel loved by me. I guess it’s my way of strengthening my sureness that he’s the one.

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