What does that look like?

Sometimes when I am writing, I lose track of that line between where I end and fiction begins.  I presented one such bit of writing as part of a Chapel service today.

I long for intimacy.  As a senior this year, I don’t know if I ever thought of it in these terms, but I had kindof always thought that I’d be married by now—or at least be on the way down that road.  Some people call it the senior scramble—I call it long and tiring.  I can’t really remember how many people I’ve dated—or tried to date—in the last few years.  Every time, though, after a few weeks, it becomes clear that we’re maybe not looking for the same things.  And so the cycle continues.  For whatever reason, the only way I can think about developing intimacy with other people is in the context of marriage.  As one dating failure follows another, I’ve been confronting the possibility that maybe I’ll never get married.  It’s happened to people before me, and it will happen to people after me.  But how is it possible that it could happen to me?

If God doesn’t have marriage as a part of my life, what does he have?  What does that look like? And why does that scare me so much.  I long for intimacy.