Single and Not Ready to Mingle
In a household where we appreciate the musical stylings of Britney Spears more than those of Coldplay, where Just For One frozen vegetables come to die, where we sand down piano benches to make old Goodwill crap look older (though we prefer to call it “shabby chic”), where our coasters are just sheets of notebook paper, where we dance to Ke$ha on couches, this next quote from the confines of my condo comes as no surprise to me –
“Well Anj, maybe he’s just romantic.” “No, Olivia, there’s just something wrong with him.”
Here’s the deal, look, I’m sure you’re so sick of this whole, “I freakin’ love being single” spiel to a point where you can recite it back to me…under the influence but uh, hello, what did you expect? It’s called “This Single Life!” Also, you decided to come here, which while I am very grateful for, I’m sure 4 out of 5 doctors would not recommend and that fifth doctor is probably my brother trying to up my hits so his ass doesn’t have to deal with me in the long run. Ah, the joys of being a journalism major in a family of doctors!
Back to my point, being single – ah yes, the bane of many others’ existence and the fuel that keeps mine going (aside from calling random strangers Van Der Douches, thanks Ke$ha).
In a world where we find any and every reason to dock points off a potential love interest – i.e. he has more Facebook profile pictures than I do – I’m relieved to be at a point in my life where I truly am the only focus of my life. I’m 21 and if you ask me how I’m doing, go ahead and call me a selfish bitch, but I’m glad that I get to actually talk about myself and not who I’m dating. Is that so crazy?
And in addition, I’m so sick of that “it’s hard out there for a single girl” bullshit. It’s only as hard as you make it and if you beat yourself up because you’re on your own and you cant even take the time to appreciate that fact that your self isn’t such a bad person to be stuck with forever, then maybe you deserve to have a shitty time being single. Harsh? Yeah, maybe. Necessary? Hell yes. Cause well damn girl, I wouldn’t want to be stuck with you either!
So I may or may not have had an internal struggle the other night when a guy I recently started talking to upped the texting game by leaving me a voicemail message. For whatever reason, I innately freaked out. My immediately response was unrefined panic. Not because I cared about him so much that I was nervous and wanted him to like me, but because I have this instinctive fear of commitment that could give Mr. Big a run for his money. I couldn’t help but let my mind spiral into this twisted chain of events – voicemails lead to phone calls, which lead to multiple calls a week, which lead to daily phone calls, which lead into the kind of phone calls where you check in with him after every you do that day, which leads to full on commitment. So it doesn’t make much sense and normal people are probably like, “What the hell is wrong with you? No seriously, what bad hot pink chick-lit novel are you living in?” I seriously have no idea. All I know is that if the whole thought of it put me off and the worst part is that he didn’t do anything wrong per se, but for me, it was all wrong.
Oh and I know I’m not God’s gift! I’m clumsy, vulgar, easily distracted (not to be confused with “impressed”) and I’m sure that birds plan to live in my hair one day. So I know what you’re thinking – I probably should snatch any poor unsuspecting fool actually volunteering to hang out with me and as much as I’d like to share that school of thought (trust me, it would make things so much easier) I just can’t go against the crazy bitch freaking out inside of me.
Commitment can be a flexible thing if two people allow it to be but rarely does it ever play out that way when unruly emotions, territorial games and generally just stupid decisions get in the way. The thing is I don’t even want to subject myself to the possibility of that right now. I’ve got a good thing going here with myself. I come home alone and I feel good about it. I can pick up my stuff and leave town to take pictures of renaissance fairs without telling anyone and I can go out without doing my hair (not that that ever really stopped me before) and I change my mind in a split second if I don’t feel like doing or going somewhere…all without feeling an ounce of guilt and I cant tell you how incredibly refreshing that is.
Like, this summer for example, I am leaving my hometown to live in one of the most exciting cities in the world and I’m doing it all for myself. I don’t have to worry about leaving someone behind. I can go straight to New York and focus on myself, my work and my best friends – no emphasis on some twisted and exhausting manhunt, no doing anything that doesn’t have my best interest at heart and best of all, no one to report to! I know now more than ever that there are perfect times in life to be single and I am definitely there right now and you know what? I fucking love it.
In case you’re wondering, yes, this really how my train of thought works. Yeah, it doesn’t make sense, but come on you should know better than that by now!