"n" drinks 1/2 a bottle of Pinot Noir. My family thinks I'm an old maid at the tender age of '25.' See my aunts were married off fresh out of college, and old from them was 23. I've finally relented to their attempts to find me the perfect husband. I met one alleged 'perfect' husband-ish. But here I have a dirty confession to make. I'm not attracted to my kind ... that is South Asian men. Yes, on occasion I have fallen for one or two, but they were all the clubbing playa types.
Bastards.
I've been spoiled. I'm fortunate enough to know what it feels like to be head over heels in-love/crazy about someone ... I know what it feels like to have my world revolve around them and try to resist it and try to keep some semblance of my personal identity ... I know what it feels like to think of them as the only member of the opposite sex on the planet and refer to them privately in my head as 'husband.' So when I meet an auntie 'setup' and I don't feel like I've been rolled over by a tsunami in the end, it fails to mean anything. Wipe the slate clean. And I'm in no hurry even though all my blood relations seem concerned about my marriage bed.
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