Temporary Escape

So instead of friends coming from Houston I went to Houston, and Mr. Cary went too.
What a blast! Shelley is an excellent hostess, got to eat Persian food, workout at the Houstonian, go to a night club in midtown. Only things I ran out of time for were shopping and laying out, but it was too cloudy for that anyway.
I really needed to get away for a weekend. It was nice to not think about how much I miss Josh for five seconds. That lasted through Saturday night, but while at the nightclub some guys were all trying to talk to me and get my #, etc, and I just felt so disgusted. They were nice, handsome boys and all I could think was ugh, get away from me creep.
Then Shelley made me watch the series finale of Dawson's Creek, which she is addicted to, so I cried the whole way home. But crying is good because it makes the hurt wear away more quickly.
I don't like to think of my love life in terms so tragic, but I feel like I'm running out of time. I feel cheated that my youth has been spent without a partner, that I am already nearing the point where celebrating a 50th anniversary will be physically impossible. Why is it that its okay to spend your whole life wishing to be an astronaut or a writer or a wrestler, but frowned upon if you wish and want to be in a long term relationship? To be a couple?
That doesn't make much sense to me, but I'm tired of thinking of it for now.