The Truth About Being Single

I realized early that money, happiness, and love were the only things anyone around me seemed to be chasing. It almost seemed like they were connected. But I could never get my hands on more than one of those at a time.

I thought I loved Buffard. I know, with a name like that I should have known. But he was sweet, at first, and he always walked me home, at first, and he always seemed to care about me. At first.

Later he would complain about these things that he always seemed to take pride in doing. Showing that he had my back; like I was his or something. But then my being his didn't seem like such a great thing, when he thought of it as something he could take for granted.

He was my first boyfriend, and the first boyfriend I dumped. I realized he wasn't giving me as much as I was giving him. I think he was only upset about it because he was the one who was being dumped. I'm sure he didn't want to stay in the relationship, but he wanted to be the one who chose to end it.

I wasn't too surprised when, two months later, I got a text saying he missed me. I think he missed having me around, you know, in his truck, bringing him lunch, but mostly wanted me back so he could be the one to leave.

I blocked him.

Then I got busy with school. University is stressful, classes, clubs, and I worked at the pub there, to help make rent and food money. I didn't have any time for love. Unless you count Finn. I wouldn't, because I don't know that I was in love with him. I worked with him, and he gave me some attention which was nice, added that he was super hot, which was double nice. We would go on what I could only call dates, which after a while ended in us staying over at each other's places.

But it felt so short, maybe a semester and a half, he graduated and left to travel and work. This is why I don't think I was in love, I wasn't upset about it. Except for missing someone to drag along to movies, and make pancakes for on the weekends. But I had friends for that most of the time.

I left, then I got left.

I briefly dated a girl in one of my classes. she was nice, it was different, but I wasn't in love. I maybe it would be better because girls understand alot of things better than guys. But I just had to buy dinner, and she ended up not really getting my humour anyways.

At least I found out I was Bi though. Then it was even sadder to people that I was always single. Doubled the pool and still couldnt find anyone.

So I graduated, with friends, with memories, and not without accomplishment.

Then I left, to go travel and work in Australia, then in Europe and even a bit in Japan. Now my thirties are closing in, I haven't dated anyone seriously for years now.

Everyone can imagine the agony of family dinners, especially surrounded by siblings who are married or almost always dating someone.

I'm only mollified by the fact that when everyone else will be drowing in wedding payments and after school clubs that I could pop down to Mexico for an impromptu vacation. Sipping margaritas while everyone else I know is ears deep in crayons and uncompromising commitment.

Love, it just doesn't seem to be written in the all knowing stars for me. I don't know why, maybe I'm destined to be one of those spinsters, like in a Jane Austen novel. An old lady who is fondly but sadly looked upon by all those around her. Except I'll be writing blockbuster movies on my yatch. And I'm fine with that. I have my writing, I can travel, I could adopt if I wanted a family. Maybe.

I like myself. Sometimes it doesn't seem that way, but I do.

I love alone time, I like taking myself on dates. Coffee, movies, walks. I never have to compromise for anything. My house stays as clean as I leave it.

But everyone else is in love. Sometimes I wonder if I'll regret it. Not trying hard enough to fall in love when I'm dying, hopefully old and sucessful, and hopefully surrounded by people I love.

I'll probably tell myself you can't force love, it just happens. It finds a way. If the hundred of novels I've read have any truth to them.

There are billions of people on the planet, you can't tell me all of them fall in love. Some must be destined to live out life all on their own.

Right now I can't imagine it any other way.

But I wonder if I'll feel like I missed out when I'm on my last train of thought.

I hope not. I don't think so.