Mariana was reading when her mother called. She let it ring. Not that she didn’t love her mother. She did. But she knew how that conversation would end.
Mariana doesn’t want to be with anyone. This draws comments from her parents, who are always asking about grandchildren. Almost like it’s payment for having raised her. It also puzzles her friends, all married, who insist that marriage and children are the greatest gift a woman can have.
She listens. She always has. But she’s also tried.
She got tired of empty relationships. Of half-full glasses. Of shallow loves and broken promises. Of believing in people who arrived full of words and disappeared when things got hard.
So she stopped.
Today she finds her freedom in books. In Saturdays with no plans. In the café she goes to alone without having to talk to anyone. And in the things she wants to see happen.
She knows that the only love she needs is her own. And that people who are uncomfortable being alone are probably just in bad company. She hasn’t given up on the idea of a relationship. She just stopped believing she needs one.
The phone stopped ringing.