As I become older, but necessarily wiser, I am becoming harder. I'm toughening my exterior to shield myself from the basic meanness so many people show me. Yes, such a statement sounds negative, hopeless, and almost melodramatic, but I've come to realize that people mostly care only about themselves.
I'm sure my last romantic relationship intensified this feeling of disgust toward the human race, for the cruelty shown to me by my partner magnified the basic selfishness of so many men in their '20s. However, recent encounters with others in my life have opened my eyes to the ease with which people use me and take advantage of me, whether it comes in the form of last-minute requests for rides from the airport or being expected to babysit other employees' children at the workplace.
I know what you're thinking. Why do I put up with it? I don't know. I suppose it's in my nature to be kind and helpful to others. I'm not fishing for compliments or recognition (something the last boyfriend often accused me of doing). Instead, I would like to meet some new people who appreciate what I do.
It's my own fault for being a pushover. Sadly, it has driven me away from a lot of people. On the upside, though, it has allowed me to appreciate my independence and time to myself. I relish my nights in my apartment, where I live alone, eat cereal for dinner, and make a fool of myself by dancing to Janet Jackson songs and eating cereal for dinner. Still, I'm not a recluse. I welcome new friendships and experiences. If you'd like to stop by, look for the welcome mat.
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