Birthday

in years •  7 years ago 

**Treintona, Single and ... **

Good morning, Joy! Today, December 9th, 2017 is my birthday.
Yeap. It's 32 years now.
I'm officially in my thirties.

But today is different. (Please insert dramatic music and read with serious tone.) Today I'm starting to feel the collagen leaving my skin, one or two follicles of my scalp turning gray (or whatever happens to my hair) and gravity making theirs with my bubis.

Yeah, even if you don't believe me, I'm sorry about all that..... And I'm still single.

Don't take me for ungrateful, I know I'm blessed every day, but my life is not what I wanted, what I expected at 32.

And I understand the phrases of encouragement, motivational and others that my friends, family and random people (random people, strangers and others) tell me that suddenly they are in the wrong place at the wrong time and they have to endure a little crisis of "I am single, no one wants me... I will not have children and I have missed the train, the plane, the cruise, the car, the taxi, the uber, the cabify, the cabify...".

I listen to my sister-in-law, Mony, talk with a lot of love about her son - my beautiful beautiful handsome cute and slapping nephew, David Matías - and also talk about the adventures and sleeplessness of a newborn and I think "I want that too. I want to exchange with her tips, advice, the "look what happened to me and it worked for me that..." and so on. But I can't even get a date.

(I'm just a little dramatic.)

If I haven't conquered the boy with the flirtatious look, the pretty barbón traumado with finances, the workaholic barbón and apparently I'm never going to be introduced to the famous "Aldo barbón", one of two: you start to think you're really cool, four-eyed, chubby-quote, you smell ugly, you're weird and an addict or it's time to listen to the universe when it says "You don't. You don't get that blessing, woman! Understand that no, no, no, no, no and NO!"
Well, I understand.

And then I had a revelation: Maybe, just maybe the universe wasn't telling me that "I wasn't," but it was telling me "not like that" and that maybe I would be a woman of the new century, who knows the love of her life through some application and that I will be married and pregnant by November 2018!

Then I came down Tinder! And I started in chinga to give "like me" to everyone who appeared in the app, without discriminating against anyone because in the heart it is not commanded and Oh! Excitement! I'm starting to get matches! And then I went in to see who they were and I was pure green-tailed 40-year-old guy,' ñores, rockers with hair longer than Rapunzel....

I erased Tinder.

I know, I know that "who understands me?" But I mean, I'm 32 years old. I need to relax. He will arrive when he has to arrive: when the moment is perfect and he and I are ready and the universe will join in our favor and then..... I have time, I mean, it's only 32 years. There's plenty of time to have my own family.

(I begin to feel the collagen leaving my skin again)

Okay, new plan b: If I'm still single for my 35th birthday, I'll have a single child.

Did anyone else have a crisis like this when they turned years old? What are your "plans b"? Do men have this kind of crisis, too? Why is it so hard to get a date today?

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