My life as a pathetic and rarely watched reality show.

My life as of late has turned into one long, drawn-out episode of The Bachelor. Only I'm without the fancy dresses and tropical islands, or million-dollar Malibu home.

I believe it began in high school, with E. My little hippie boyfriend, who brought feelings out I had yet to experience. After 3 months of being with me, he calls me up to break the news. He had had a girlfriend. OF. 3. YEARS. He felt horribly guilty, and eventually went back to her. Later, I began dating R in the class below me. It was exciting. It was as hot as a high school relationship could get. But after 3 weeks, he had told me he didn't want a girlfriend, he wasn't ready for one. It was within a week he started dating my friend, of whom he stayed with FOR. 3. YEARS.

Then there was H in college. He left for a course in Prague after an incredible month of being together, leaving with promises of thoughts and words of hope. We would pick this back up when he came back, this he was sure. The first week he was gone, he said he missed me and didn't think it was going to be as bad as it turned out to be. Then the email became more and more sparse, the conversations generic and painful. When he came back he said he had felt nothing. When I kissed him, it was blank. I asked if he had met someone, and he said yes.

Then, after a few interspersed between, there was, as you are familiar with (and undoubtedly annoyed with hearing about)...the Ghost. I had met him in the post office. He was standing at the counter, for what seemed like an eternity. Our eyes met, I smiled. Before I left, I looked one more time and his eyes had never left me. I smiled once more, assuming that would be the last I would see of him. My friends convinced me after work that night to meet them at the bar for a round of darts. I walked in, and it was as if his eyes had been with me the entire day into the night. There he was, the guy from the post office. The Ghost. We spent what would be the most incredible few weeks of my life. But inevitably, he was left with a choice. His wife (yes, his WIFE) ended up with the prize (rightly so, I do admit), and I was left again with the feeling I would never be the one on top. I would forever be second runner up in this battle of contest Love*.

And here I find myself again, awaiting the final rose. After almost two years of being convinced that I was left incapable of feeling again, it having been shut off the day he disappeared, has been torn open in a matter of a night. Suddenly, I can feel again. And it scares the shit out of me. He told me yesterday it's between me and her. He has to make a decision, and it won't be easy. In my mind...I'm the obvious choice, how could I not be? But then I look at my track record, the odds are against me. Except, maybe it's about damn time I do get the final rose. I mean, one of these days, I'll have to end up in first place. Life isn't that cruel.

At least give me my final date, Chris. Or surprise me with more time like you did for Charlie with that annoying chick Krisiley and innocent Sarah B. I'm tired of waiting my turn, knowing my time will come. I'm ready for my turn to be now. I have too much to give.

The rose ceremonies have not only run it's course for me, but for primetime as well. I'm done competing. And really, you should be too.

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*Painfully cheesy, I know. But it serves it's purpose for dramatic emphasis quite nicely.