My So-Called Singleness

We all know what today it, so I'm not going to put it in huge bolded letters. Okay, I'll do it anyway, just because you begged and pleaded on your knees. IT'S FRIDAY!

Lately, basically on every social networking site and billboard, people are complaining about Valentine's Day and how they're "#ForeverAlone" and they'll never find someone to spend the most socially constructed holiday with because they're the most disgusting human being to ever flop, wet and naked, out of someone's vagina. To those people I just have one thing to say: Shut up. Valentine's Day doesn't mean shit. It is literally just another day of the year that you can do whatever the hell you want to do without it being special. Stop feeling sorry for yourself because it's not attractive, and that's probably why you're single. Log off Facebook, get off your butt, and go out and meet people, okay? Trust me, you'll survive a day out in the real world.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, I want to talk about myself (finally).

Despite my sisters' suspicions that I have a "secret boyfriend," I am going to admit and confirm here (because my blog is a primary source for this kind of information) that I am single. And, by single, I mean that I am not presently in an official, committed relationship with anyone. But, please, GOD ALMIGHTY PLEASE, do not go out to set me up with your cousin with bacne because I am taken.

Wait, what? 

I'm about to say something that people don't seem to understand. You can be in love with someone who you're not in a relationship with. Shocking, I know! Actually, you can feel and do a lot of things without being in a relationship with someone. As long as you're respecting yourself and not out ruining lives, whatever you do is cool. For me, I am emotionally and mentally unavailable for courting, impregnation, and wiring you money to a bank in an unknown Middle Eastern country, and I have been for a while. This pretty much means that if you approach me in a "I find dates on OKCupid because that's the only place girls will fool around with me out of desperation" kind of way, it's going to go a little like this:

Some guy I kind of know: So, you should totally come back to my place and check out the new drapes in my bedroom and drink something that'll get you loose and wasted.
Me: Listen, bud, I'm kind of involved with someone right now.
Some guy I kind of know: Oh, but your Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter all say you're single.
Me: Yeah, but trust me. I'm off the market.
Some guy I kind of know: Who is it? Do I know them?
Me: Probably not. He went to jail for beating up this one guy who hit on me. He's kind of the jealous type.

Okay, so it doesn't actually go like that, but you get the point.

The truth is that love is complicated. You should never feel pressured into being in a relationship unless it's the right time for you and the other person. For me, that time has not come because life is complicated and I am personally not ready to jump on the back of some guy's Harley and ride off into the sunset. I have too much on my plate and too many therapy sessions to attend before I'll feel like that's something I should be doing.

To be honest, I hate talking about my "love life" because people always try to complicate the things that are simple. They can't take the honest truth because there has to be a catch or something I'm not sharing.  Sure, I do keep things to myself because I (and anyone else involved) have a right to privacy and because it is really none of your business.

And, for those wondering, I'm happy with the way things are right now. I'm grateful for the time I have with the company I have, and that's all a girl needs. Who needs flowers and chocolates that'll eventually give me diarrhea and a changed relationship status on Facebook when I've got all this love and beauty in my life? Flowers will die eventually. Chocolates will be eaten. Facebook will become extinct just like MySpace.

Love and beauty are immortal as long as you keep your eyes wide open. 

Falling Without Recovery

Everyone and their mom is obsessed with falling in Love. The movies and TV shows and musical arrangements that fill the airwaves during daily drives to and from work are all full of Love stories that will either leave you curled up under your covers yearning to be touched in the best way or wanting to regurgitate the cold sweet and sour chicken you ate for lunch. The whole Love thing has become such an important force in the lives of pretty much everyone that it's even become like a big deal to tell someone that you love them in a way that's like "Yeah, I loved you before, but now I think I might want to only have sex with just you for the rest of my life." Funny how that happens, right? 

You could have asked high school Angela if she'd ever been in Love, and I can almost guarantee that she would have said yes in a heartbeat. I was stupid, though. I thought I was in Love with every guy who showed any kind of awareness of my existence or any guy who had moves on the astroturf field and do some kind of hair flip. But, let's face it, kids, that's just lust. And lust is Love's evil twin who only wants to give you herpes and a broken heart. 

I've grown up since then, and I'm not going to lie or do a fairy dance around the mushroom to avoid disclosing that I currently find myself caught between the sticky fingers of Love's iron fist. 

But I'm going to just say what no one else will say. Being in Love is shit. It's horrible. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. 

Some mornings you open your eyes and life is rainbows and puppies and fuzzy kittens sleeping on cotton candy clouds. Suddenly you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong, and you're so happy and just want to go tell it on the mountain so everyone knows about how you have all these feelings for this one insignificantly significant individual. You finally understand the hype about Love. Well, you think you understand. After all, you're pretty much walking around in the same puff of smoke that follows you around after you leave a really good concert or have just had a totally real conversation with Josh Groban. 

Other days, you're lucky if you can get up out of bed. Your chest hurts and you miss this other person more than anything ever. It feels like you're going to actually die. I suppose you could say they're the drug 12 steps wouldn't be enough to kick, and you feel like you're going through the most painful of withdrawals. Every song is suddenly about them, and every movie stars you.  You remember the possibilities of dying of a broken heart and you're nearly positive that that's how you'll die. And, finally, the story of Romeo and Juliet makes complete sense. Maybe those two lovebirds weren't as hormonally irrational as you once thought. 

Then there are days when you absolutely hate everything about this person. You sit there and think to yourself, "Why this person? Why now? Why couldn't I be feeling all this for the cute guy who works at Subway?" You hate the way they laugh, the way they drive too fast, the way they only want you when they drink, the way they look when they think you're not watching, the way they do just about everything. It all sucks for being so damn cute and appealing like a 6-pack of bitch beer on a Friday night. You wish they'd just leave so you could just move the frig on. Like, please get out of my life now. I can't take this. You're killing me slowly. 

But there are still those days when you feel like you're in one of those corny Nicholas Sparks novels, and you're totally invincible to the rest of the world through the power of Love. You love the fact that they're around. You love every little moment you have with them, and you realize how beautiful life is while they're with you. You see them from across the room, and your heart stops and you can't imagine having a more beautiful view. They touch you, and everything feels perfect. They hold you, and you feel the safest you've ever felt. They kiss you, and you wonder if you'll ever find anything that feels more right. And that's not even explaining the feeling at it's best. That's just skidding across the surface. 

The thing about Love, though, is that despite all the aching chests and awkward first kisses and the feeling of "how will I ever move on from this moment?", it's still pretty amazing. And that, kids, is the shittiest part.