Marriage as a declining option for women

As a woman who spent her early 30s actively putting off marriage, I have had ample time to investigate, if you will, the prevailing attitudes of the high-status American urban male. (Granted, given my taste for brainy, creatively ambitious men – or "scrawny nerds," as a high-school friend describes them – my sample is skewed.) My spotty anecdotal findings have revealed that, yes, in many cases, the more successful a man is (or thinks he is), the less interested he is in commitment.

You mean that much to me

And it's hard to show

Gets hectic inside of me

When you go

Can I confess these things

To you

Well I don't know

Embedded in my chest

And it

Hurts to hold

I couldn't spill my heart

My eyes gleam looking in from the dark

I walk out in stormy weather

Hold my words, keep us together

Steady walking but bound to trip

Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time

Sympathize

I've been working on

White lies

So I'll tell the truth

I'll give it up to you

And when the day come

It will have all been fun

We'll talk about it soon

And I couldn't spill my heart

My eyes gleam

Looking in from the dark

I walk out in stormy weather

Hope my words keep us together

Steady walking but bound to trip

Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time

Sympathize

I've been working on

White lies

So I'll tell the truth

I'll give it up to you

And when the day come

It will have all been fun

We'll talk about it soon

“I imagine the feelings of two people meeting again after many years. In the past they spent some time together, and therefore they think they are linked by the same experience, the same recollections. The same recollections? That's where the misunderstanding starts: they don't have the same recollections; each of them retains two or three small scenes from the past, but each has his own; their recollections are not similar; they don't intersect; and even in terms of quantity they are not comparable: one person remembers the other more than he is remembered; first because memory capacity varies among individuals (an explanation that each of them would at least find acceptable), but also (and this is more painful to admit) because they don't hold the same importance for each other. When Irena saw Josef at the airport, she remembered every detail of their long-ago adventure; Josef remembered nothing. From the very first moment their encounter was based on an unjust and revolting inequality.”

Milan Kundera