I have, on more than one occasion said, well, more like ranted about how annoyed I am whenever someone would ask me if I am in a relationship or not. And when I’d answer the painfully obvious no, a curious face matched with the obligatory “how come” follows. I’ve been figuring into this scenario so much that I have my answer mastered. I’d come up with a smile, sometimes forced but a smile nonetheless. Then I’d shrug and say, that’s just how it is.
Truth be told, more than getting obviously ticked off by the constant prying into my non-existent love life, I frankly get sad. Yes, behind the smile is a heart that is aching. It never changes. It just doesn’t hurt so much like it did before. I guess I just got used to the feeling, the inquiries, the sincere as well as the insincere “it’s okay, it’ll come in time”. It’s just that whenever I am asked, it is as if I am transported to the moment when it all sank in – I am unattached. No longer am I half of a whole. I am no longer someone’s jelly to their peanut butter.
And it gets to me. Every single fucking time. I am lonely. I would’ve said alone but my friends would vehemently say otherwise. Sure, I have them by my side but as I’ve come to realize, they’ve got their own lives too. No matter how much I want to be there all the time, they just cannot wait on me. And obligating them to do so is just selfish. Being single is not bad. Don’t get me wrong. Neither is it like walking around with a spring in my step. Needless to say, I just don’t enjoy it all the time. Especially when the day comes to a close and all you’ve got is the two pillows on your bed.
It isn’t a conscious decision on my part to be one singular sensation. Let’s just put it out there. A.) No one has been asking me out. B.) I am petrified of asking anyone because of the nagging feeling of rejection. C.) No one has at the very least set me up with someone or simply introduced me to an interesting humanoid. I know, I am being completely and unapologetically pathetic but the whole thing is getting to me. It’s like a bad rash that you just want to scratch the hell out.
Sometimes I think I am still scared. Yeah. Maybe I am afraid of putting myself out there. Of allowing my fortified walls to come down. That’s the thing when you get hurt really bad, you tend to take two steps back. But I can’t let the fear get the best of me either. It isn’t attractive. Besides, if I want to see myself out of this current situation then I’ll have to man up. I’ve been dipping my toes in the water for quite some time now. I’ll have to take a long and deep breath and then dive in. Fuck it. I just don’t want to have to answer to the whole situation and feel bad about myself.
Ah well, I always have a bucket full of hope and positivity by my side. I’ll still be annoyed at having to bare the sad state of my love life but hey, I’ll still bust out a smile. I can manage. Don’t worry. I am one tough cookie.
