The following is a post written by monthly contributor Alexa.
I get being single. I get being alone. I get being the third, fifth, seventh and even the ninth wheel (seriously, I have been a ninth wheel). I get the evenings watching chick flicks and eating chocolate, wondering if the only one to find your dead body would be the next door neighbour, and only because of the horrible smell of decomposition. (Sorry, terribly morbid. Ridiculous I know.)
For a while there I had bought into the idea that the worst fate I could imagine was never to get married...until I told myself to get a GRIP! So before we address the fact that I need to stop talking to myself, lets first talk about marriage.