Anniversary blues

The eighth anniversary of the break-up of my engagement is this weekend, and I feel like my psyche is coming apart at the seams. It's been eight years, and I've only had one relationship since then, one I had to cut short because the guy was too dead-set on having a bunch of kids, when I don't even want *ONE*, and because he completely misunderstood my old-school feminist outlook. I'm sick of feminists all being mistaken for misandryist bra-burners who think all men are TEH EVOL!!!1111, when I'm more like St. Edith Stein. Check out her book entitled simply "Woman", and that's me all over. Finding her was like finding an aunt who knew pretty much exactly how I feel.

I just wish I could find someone to fill this need, to help me scratch this itch before it tears me in two. I've been tempted to put my virginity up for sale on eBay, with the starting bid at one million dollars (on the principle that guys with that much money are often better educated and are more likely to make my first -- and last -- time worthwhile. Lest you think that I'd so desperate for a lay, that I'd settle on the first guy who comes along, I want someone who'll whisper 19th century poetry in my ear as he's making love to me.

God, do I feel dirty for mentioning this...