So here’s a thing about being single: I hate it. I hate being single. I hate every part about it. I hate when coupled people tell you that it’s “fun” to be single. Like we’re going to or throwing outlandish parties every night.
No. It’s really more like this:
My whole life is like a pair of George Costanza’s pants. Interpret that how you will.
And I hate when coupled people say something like, “I miss being single/Hell, I wish I were single” — it’s like, really? You sure you wanna say that, because that’s a terrible thing to say. I’m telling your bf/gf just to spite you.
Being single sucks, honestly. You never have a date for anything, you have no idea where the next person is going to come from (or when), there’s a lot of lonely nights, and you don’t have someone to share fun inside jokes with. Some people consider all of these things pluses. I see them as big minuses. I want someone to have fun inside jokes with. The kind of jokes that lead to kisses and snuggling. And I don’t even particularly like cuddling and snuggling. I get bored. But damnit it, I want it. I want to know where my next inside joke is coming from.
“Where is my John Wayne,” sang Ms. Paula Cole. “Where is my prairie song? Where is my song? Where is my happy ending? Where have all the cowboys gone?” I don’t necessarily want a cowboy; I don’t think we’d have much to relate to. He’d be like, “I’m on a horse” and I’d be all like, “I hate horses, they scare me, they look like monsters.”
What I’m saying is, I just want to jump into my next relationship, but I’m not going to do it hastily; I still have high standards for myself, as any gal should. I’m not just gonna tango with the next guy who asks me to tango. Tango is a euphemism. For relationships. (Sometimes my writing is really complex, so I thought I should break that down.) I want to jump in, with my stupid full heart. I want a partner. I want the Don to my Roger, in a romantic way. I want to face the world knowing I have someone to text about it. Someone who will read the text and be touched that I thought of them.
I hate being single.
Do you relate?
Photo by Nicolas Venturelli via Flickr.
Reposted from Apocalypstick, with permission.
Almie Rose is a writer from Los Angeles. She has a blog, Apocalypstick. In addition to Dating & Hookup she also writes for Hello Giggles, The Frisky, Thought Catalog, and Genlux Magazine. Her book, I Forgot To Be Famous, is out now. You can follow her on twitter @apocalypstick. Her favorite pastime is eating and drinking and sleeping and then eating again.
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