I really wonder what they mean sometimes...

i can't help but smile continually as i write this one. my life is a wonderous journey of irony, blending often into sublime and stark realisations. of course, my 'realisations' are subjective, they may not reflect the truth. then again, truth is a layered concept. there's my truth, there's your truth. i guess very often my realisations are simply what i, or a silly part of me, wishes to be true (even today, it seems!!).

years ago, a woman who i deeply loved then once asked me jokingly if i would give up being a non-vegetarian if she married me. the lovesick fool that i was, and so thoroughly jolted was i at the thought of such a dreamy outcome as of our 'shared future' (well, besides not eating meat, of course), i stupidly blurted out that i would gladly do so. the prospect of our impending marriage realistically faded away in the laughter of my peers at my awkward admission.

years later, yesterday in fact, a woman i deeply loved once, asked me if i'm ready to get married. it was not a proposition, (at least not exactly directly so ;) but a simple question. my answer was candid and honest (and a reflection of my self-confidence, or egotism, whichever way you wanna see it); i don't want to right now, but if i did, i'd make a damn great husband, and, when the time came, a damn good father as well. what should have struck me at the time was the suddenness of the question, which came without any preamble. it was out of the blue, although marriage is something this woman had frequently discussed with me earlier, without me being a factor therein. immediately after i answered, a friend asked that woman as to whether she wanted to get married. the woman replied emphatically that she was willing to tie the know that very instant.

the irony of the moment struck me immediately then, as it strikes me now, and the smile unrelentingly creeps onto my face when i think of it, as i will probably do at various points in the future. the fact remains that there were 4 of us, but she asked only me. she asked only me.

what can we ever make of the intentions and meaning of the words of the fair distaff, so often buried in such deep subterfuge? perhaps i should be grateful that the possibility of what could have been meant by her question (and her answer) does not sting as badly today as it once did. or does it?

you know why i hate women? cuz do what i will, and try as i do, i don't think i can ever really fully stop loving them.