I’m sad. Today.
Why? Because I feel lonely. Love-wise, that is.
I think about my singlehood a lot. Usually it doesn’t bother me much and it’s more of an “oh well, whatever” situation. But every now and then I get a pang of loneliness that ends up in tears and asking myself “why?”.
I cried in the shower a little while ago. It was a bit forced, admittedly. I wanted to cry, because I was feeling incredible amounts of pain and crying makes me feel like I’m doing something about it. Why am I single?, I kept thinking.
I’m not ugly. (Or at least I don’t think I’m ugly 99% of the time, like I used to before.) I’ve got a decent brain between my two ears. I’ve worked hard for my accomplishments. I’m generally nice and sweet, or at least people tell me so. What’s wrong with me, then?
I don’t know. And it pains me to know I’m in my late twenties and I’ve no idea what it feels like to be in a relationship (NO, the Ex doesn’t count).
Where have all the decent and single men gone? Why can I only get the attention and interest of asshats like the Russian? (Yes, I like him, but he’s still an asshat.)
I half-jokingly half-seriously asked my dad where all the decent single men were. He said: “I don’t know. But your time will come.”
Sigh. But how can you be so sure, dad? There’s halfwits on my facebook feed getting married and having kids and I can’t even keep a decent male by my side long enough for me to say “I like you”.
And then I think about the Russian. I don’t know what his intentions are. He’s still got the facebook profile picture of him with the girlfriend he claims isn’t as girlfriend-ish as it seems. I haven’t forgiven him. I’m tempted to say he’s different. But in the back of my mind I know of the collective experience of millions of women before me: no, they’re never different.
Unless they want to, that is.
But nobody wants to be different with me, it seems.