The Good, The Bad, and The Lonely
Sometimes I feel like single women can never catch a break. If you miss being in a relationship, you’re pathetic. And if you’re happy being single, then surely you’re lying.
I write this on a Tuesday night, from underneath my wine colored comforter with an oversized mug of Theraflu keeping me warm. My laptop has become my boyfriend, and The Hunger Games my fuck buddy. Would I rather have a handsome face and athletic body by my side? Would it be much more satisfying being turned over and hit from the back, instead of turning pages? I said “Hell yeah, hell yeah, fuck yeah.” But am I dying because I’m alone? Not even a little bit. At least not tonight. Because tonight, I still feel a little sick, my room is messy, I haven’t shaved my legs in three days, I don’t want to share any of the chicken-shirataki noodle dish I made for dinner, and I really just want to blog and finish my fucking book!
I know first hand how good some people (single or not) can be at pretending like life is a World Series parade when it’s more reminiscent of a funeral procession. They mask their pain in five-inch heels and bottle service, “check-in” at every concert, and go on dinner dates with men they wish were someone else. Except. Sometimes? Sometimes they just wanna break in their new stilettos, bottle service is free, they love live shows, and simply like making new friends.
Because sometimes life IS just that good. Sometimes shit is just so awesome you gotta announce it in a Tweet. Sometimes your friends are just so fucking beautiful you gotta snap a picture with them, arms intertwined, and smiling because you have every reason to be. Sometimes you don’t have to fake it.
So even if between all the Sunday Fundays, there are days where you just want stay home and cry. So even if amidst tanning in the tropics, the rain still makes you sad – SO WHAT? Because as bad as the bad times were, there were so many more good times. Being lonely isn’t always about being miserable. It shows one’s capacity to love, and willingness to be loved.
So forget people who are so discontent with their lives that they go out of their way to make others feel as if they can’t live theirs. As if they can’t blatantly be happy. Or like it’s wrong to want love. Like they don’t deserve it. I’m not sure what’s worse – boasting about being happy when you’re not or downplaying your joy for the sake of others.
So let them be lonely. Chances are, if they’re happy you won’t believe them anyway.