I stopped trying to reason with love a long time ago. Love conditionally. Love unconditionally. Wait to call. Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. All the self-help books, the love manifestos, the “Take it from me, I’ve been there”s…all of it makes my head spin. I’m sure all the heartache from my blog gives you a headache. When is this ever going to end?
I never thought I’d find myself approaching 33 still single. I was certain I’d be married by the time I was 30, blowing out a fiery birthday cake with the help of my husband. I have so many friends, yet I’m so lonely. I look longingly at pictures of my friends on Facebook with their smiling babies, and every time, I want to write, “I’m so jealous!” How inappropriate would that comment be.
I walk myself through the five stages of grief, never getting to acceptance. Definitely denial, definitely depression. Sometimes I’m angry. I think of my high school classmates who were sleeping around, having a blast in their early teens, getting abortions (multiple abortions!), and they’re happy. They have loving husbands and children that they’re taking to school. I’m thinking, that’s so not fair. That’s so not fucking fair. When am I going to get my happy ending?
After 25 years of marriage, my aunt and my uncle who are in their mid- to late-forties are getting divorced. They have two girls in college and an eight-year-old boy. They’re getting divorced. This attractive, fun couple who used to hold hands and kiss during family gatherings. They were the first on the dance floor, twirling, giggling. Happy. They were happy. That’s what I thought. In fact, I think it’s the truth. Everyone is saying, “You never know what was happening behind closed doors.” But I truly believe they were pretty happy. Soon to be divorced, unfortunately. Why? My aunt bumped into her high school sweetheart. So she moved out and filed for divorce. My uncle, a strong man, is ruined…crying often.
It makes me feel like all my heartache put together ain’t so bad. The “I don’t love you”s, the “I love you, but I’m not in love with you,” the sudden disappearances, the unanswered phone calls, the unanswered emails.
So I’ve resigned myself to not talk about it. The less I talk about it, the less people will ask. And why must they be asking in the first place? And on the same note, why must the majority of single women I know feel compelled to only talk about relationships and marriage. Get a life! My single New Yorker friend who is moving back to San Francisco asked on the phone, “Who are you going to set me up with? What’s the scene like there? I hope you have it scoped out for me.”
I yelled, “Umm, I’m sorry. I have a life that doesn’t revolve around a scene. I do things I like to do because I like them. I keep myself busy with what I want to do. You should figure out the same.”