I went to bed last night terribly afraid that I couldn't love as much in the next relationship. I felt that I have given all that I had to S, and it failed. I'm afraid that the next love won't be as much in depth because I've exhausted it all-- that there couldn't be any more to give. I'm afraid that the next won't be comparable and settling for him because well, to use a cliche, I'm not get any younger. I don't want to be the 30-something maid who jokes about freezing her eggs and flipping through sperm bank catalogs. Although I don't want to get married until my later twenties, I don't want the uncertainty of waiting. There's this sense of security in being in a relationship and knowing that he's your person.
I don't know how long this melancholy lasts, but I feel like I'm wading into it even further.
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