more about ideals

I read in an article recently that marriage need not be about love, it is more about companionship and childbearing. And for an instant, I thought, that would not be so bad, a friend to raise children with. But of course it would be bad. I would forever regret such a decision, every time I met someone I could love, I would think, had I only not married him, life could be so different. Of course, there is the possibility that I will never meet such a person, one that I could love (who would love me back), but dammit, I will spend my life alone then.
That is what is missing, the thought that everything will be alright, the thought that my life is special, that it is impossible that it be anything but wonderful, because I am wonderful. And I am realizing that I am ordinary, the world is not my playground, I pay bills and am not the smartest or prettiest girl around, I am just me, and people around me may quite justifiably ignore me and pay attention to someone else. I am not the epitome of interesting and insightful. This is the hardest thing, and I know it in my mind, but I seem to be frustrated at the fact that I am not better than everyone at everything. In fact, I am bad at a lot of things. I feel like a failure. And I am losing something of myself in this, I think it is childishness, in the good and bad senses. Somehow I think I should be amazed at the world in light of my own deficiencies, but it seems only to disappoint me.
But I would like to hold onto my idealism, I would like to think that there is a problem, where is the boy that can dream and love and is not so interested in me or themselves as in the world, someone who is honest with themselves and with me, who does not just want a family, but wants a family for a purpose, who lives thoughtfully and intentionally? I'm tired of being seen as a means to an end, as a fulfillment of some childhood fantasy of what they think happiness is (or rejected because I do not fit this mold), how banal. We are all just sitting around complaining because our needs are not met, searching for someone to fill these needs. We are sad because we are ugly, we think that if someone tells us we are pretty this will go away. We feel like there is not much good in ourselves, if someone makes us feel like there is a reasonable amount good in ourselves, everything will be okay. But maybe the stark and somewhat beautiful truth is that there is nothing very good in ourselves, that I by myself am nothing at all, a waste of space and food and water. Or perhaps that there is so many dark and terrible things that I am capable of, and every once in a while God works through me to create something precious and incomprehensibly wonderful. So why would we want people to think we are good, when we are not? We should say to one another, 'you are everything wrong with the world, but somehow I love you still, so much, and I do not know why.' So I refuse to make someone happy. But I would desperately like to make someone feel alive, to help them do things, to love passionately, and to tell them when they are wrong or ugly or evil. Perhaps this is a lot to ask. But I do not understand why people would want to be comfortable, why laughter is sometimes our greatest comfort, as if distraction will make us good. Why can we not be honest with one another?