I mostly let it roll off me when people tell me I should be married. Usually it’s older people who mean it out of a sincere place of caring; they see my character (or at least, the face I publicly present) and genuinely wonder why I haven’t attracted the romantic attention of a single gentleman yet. Personally, I have my theories, which probably deserve their own, non-sonnet post at some point; but at least one reason is that I’m not particularly looking very hard. I’ve never bothered with online dating; I don’t go to very many social activities that would put me in contact with the kind of guy I’m looking for; etc. And honestly, that’s fine. When I’m not in the middle of a one-sided crush on someone, I genuinely enjoy my singleness and my space.
Hence today’s sonnet, reflecting on singleness, and whether it’s wasteful or not. And I came to the correct conclusion: of course it’s not a waste. Marriage would be nice, but, eh, whatever.
The biggest problem with this particular sonnet, though, is that I’m pretty sure I intended to write a love sonnet when I wrote it. But I’ll get to that next week.
Shall I Be Wasteful?
Shall I be wasteful of the bloom of youth
And not allow a lovers’ arm’s embrace,
And let time my vitality erase,
Pursuing now, instead, a higher truth?
Or shall I ow find warmth in company,
A lover’s fire to heat me through the night,
A crucible of passion and delight,
And immortality through progeny?
I do not know why I scoff at such things,
Instead to write and dream of lives replete
With solitary moments, each so sweet:
I need no comrades in my wanderings.
But fear you not—my heart is not a stone:
I’ll live content with God and self alone.