I was taking a Facebook quiz — one of those quizzes where you answer a bunch of questions and they tell you what color aura you’ll have in 2016 — and one of the questions was, “What do you feel about being single for the rest of your life?”
It’s a good thing that one of the options there was, “I don’t know”, because I don’t. So, here I am trying to sort this thing out. What do I feel about it?
Resigned, primarily. I hate it when I see posts on social media that pronounce to all and sundry that they are “happily single by choice”, because chances are, if they had a choice, they would be together with the ones they love. So, I think the more honest version would be “happily single because I didn’t have a choice”.
Sad. Because I’ve morphed from a hopeful romantic into an unrecognizable pile of bitterness and bile that’s turned putrid over time.
Passed over. When I watch couples on tv or in real life doing the most mundane things not even realizing that they’re exchanging moments of affection or tenderness because it happens so often, I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I won’t ever get to experience that. What’s worse is that this isn’t like watching a man land on the moon and knowing that I can’t do the same thing. Or seeing some tweenager crowned Miss Universe and knowing that I’ll never do a victory walk on the stage. This is something that doesn’t need credentials; that even ugly — okay, let’s euphemize — even not so aesthetically and visually pleasing people — get to do; that even those bordering the poverty line get to find; that doesn’t need a GPA requirement to be met — well, you get the picture.
Dead on the inside. At least where my heart is concerned. Like Water for Chocolate. The matches in my box are all wet.
My dreams are gone. I don’t know what to say about that. All of a sudden I have no plans. Just breathe, eat, work, get through the day, and on the off-chance that I get invited to some event — show up. Then, post evidence of it on FB so that I would have a semblance of a life and some human connection.
Afraid of knowing what lies ahead. Now, this is new. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a fan of fortune telling or anything that has to do with prophesying what the Universe had in store for me. These days, I’m actually scared to find out. Rather, scared to get confirmation that “this is it”. I still get readings; I still look at my cards myself, and the cards are good, but they never seem to reflect what’s really going on in real life.
Actually, I’m more afraid of hearing news about him and knowing for a fact that he’s moved on with someone else. That would make me unravel. And I don’t want to get mad at him for the choices he’s made. There’s still enough love in me for that.
So I don’t know. It feels like I’m in the theatre, trying to make it to the ending of a crappy B movie just because I’m stuck to my seat.
I’m looking forward to living an uninspired and loveless life — said no one ever.