Four Engagements And One Wedding

It’s true that I might have been a terrifying girlfriend, sometimes. Since my very first love story, I was staunchly confident, terribly assertive, and I genuinely thought I knew it all. It’s true that I found all these boys exceedingly romantic, with their flowers and their presents and their puppy-dog eyes. 
 
Me—past the passion phase—which I liked short and intense, I saw no reason for all the fuss.
 
I was just cool like that. I didn’t expect much from them. Of course, my aloofness might have contributed to the intensity of their passion. Which in turn confirmed my theory that love was a bit overrated. And men. And romance. 
 
 

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Obviously, I would never get married. 
 
Here is how I saw life: The world was full of men. Passion was fun, couples were boring. Friendships were superior to love stories, sex was dull after three months, marriage was outdated, and kids, eeeer, maybe one at some point when I’m old and wrinkled and like, thirty-one. It would probably happen with one of my boyfr…