It’s strange to think of companionship; I think the only thing that I’ve ever desired so fervently and yet simultaneously dreaded and feared to the point of aversion is God. There are times when I look and mum and Jeff, when I look at her past marriages and the other failed marriages that seem to obscure my mind, and I simply hate the idea. I loathe and hate and abhor the thought of tethering myself to an imperfect being. Not to say that I am perfect, quite the opposite; surely my flaws and insecurities block such a focal union. There are other times, however, when such a bond feels immensely correct, blissful and complete. I want to raise a family. I want to be a mother and a wife and even a grandmother, although that involves getting old and wrinkly. This topic is particularly divided for me.

Today mum and Jeff and I went to the Slavic festival. There, in the voluntary custody of the white tents and endless tables propping up a canopy of color and intrigue, mum and I stumbled upon a baby carriage. Not a stupid American stroller, but the trademark European carriage that makes the pains of labor a little less agonizing. How delicate it was! But beyond that, how flawless and beautiful and perfect is the being meant to inhabit it! I can barely fathom the joy of holding my own child, my little one. To share the exquisite challenge of parenthood with the man I love sounds superb.

But the aspect that makes this so beautiful is also what threatens me: the challenge. I doubt myself as to if I have the integrity or the ability to develop the maturity to make a marriage work. I can’t get along with people. Yes, mindless PR is simple for me, but actually interacting and communicating and loving someone boundlessly must be so hard.

So hard. I honestly don’t know it I could do it.

But at the same time I know that I can have any logical thing I want, as long as I am careful and work hard to deserve what I want. Thank heavens I don’t have to seriously think about this for another half-decade or so. Thank heavens I feel no pressure as of late (being 17 and all).

I don’t know. It scares me, yet enlivens me. This will definitely be a hardship for me, I know this much. It was for the bat, for mum, for every bleeding woman that seems to surround me. I see divorces left and right; failed marriages seem to be a theme in my family.

Like I stated above, how absolutely ripping that I don’t have to worry about this for a while.