The notoriously single hot friend – yup, that’s me.
Why am I single? That’s a question I get asked often – and a bit of a loaded one, I think. How does one answer that? What kind of answer does one expect to get – a rambling rant of one’s failed relationships and done-me-wrongs and reasons for rejection?
This is a question I’ve pondered, and as with most people, there are likely many reasons though mine are pretty lame… I really have no excuse.
I too often tend to limit myself in situations of distance and never-can-bes with an end in sight; I have spent far too much time in my life on a self-imposed layaway plan, collecting dust and wasting time in long distance relationships. I’ve come to realize that guy across the country is nothing more than a glorified pen pal masquerading as a boyfriend who’s getting a good ego stroking knowing that hot chick has her parts on lockdown, pining for a physical manifestation of that voice on the phone and the face in the pictures. If there is a positive, it can be the butterflies and smiles it adds to your day and to smooth over a lonely gap – we all like attention, right? In summary, long distance relationships are great if you're socially inept, relationship 'challenged,' or in prison, but they are no longer for me - even if it is just a few hours drive.
I don’t make much effort to get out and meet men, let alone give many a fair chance. Perhaps I’m overly picky and not willing to take enough chances; I presume that I’m not going to be into 9 out of 10 guys that I meet, and it’d be my luck that the ones that I do take a liking to tend not to reciprocate my interest. Figures. I’m a magnet for douchebags, weirdos, and loads of what’s not my type - whatever that it is, since I really don’t have one. I meet a lot of great guys that would treat me like gold but if I have zero desire to get naked or even give you a trial kiss – I do love to play kissing bandit – it ain’t happening because you likely aren’t going to grow on me. Looks are somewhat important to me, I’m a visual person, and I want to find myself salivating on sight. Shallow? – maybe, but I prefer to think of it as preference and we all have them. Perhaps I’ll take you up on your passionless company when I’m in my 60s. I fall for all the wrong guys and run from the right ones, often self-sabotaging to speed up what I believe to be an inevitable end. I’m far from perfect; I’ve committed my relationship wrongs and broken hearts, taken relationship missteps and fallen victim to my emotional scars – I’m aware of my flaws and do my best to not only understand the root of, but to correct them.
I’ve come to the conclusion I am afraid of love – finding and falling in it, embracing it, being shitty at it, losing it - and not being able to get over it. I love huge and I lose hard; often left licking my wounds in a depressed state of self-pity for months and shutting myself down to all others, while I try to patch up and fortify the brick walls I surround myself with, only to come out with a harder shell for the next guy to try and crack. It’s been two years since my last love ended and I’m just now feeling that I can really move forward and put the one I refer to as the ‘Epitome of Douchebaggery’ behind me. It’s about fucking time.
“So why are you single?!” Can you imagine if everyone were to answer that question honestly? I’m tempted to start asking randoms online that very question and see what kind of responses I get. Being the people watcher I am, hopefully I’d get a few batshit bitter ones and better yet, I’d like to give some fabricated and fucked up responses of my own for entertainment sake. Perhaps I’ll make that my next social experiment and let you know how it goes.
