Since my last relationship, I’ve made the conscious decision to stay single until a guy who’s basically a unicorn shows up, which means I’ve been single for a long ass time. It’s been so long, in fact, that on my loneliest of nights, I’ve actually convinced myself that I’m going to die alone. Deep down I know that eventually the right guy will come along and sweep me off my feet, but there are certain things that make me feel like that notion is nothing but a pipe dream.
Dating sites are depressing AF.
I’ve been on several different dating sites and each and every one of them just make me feel like I’m swimming through the dump trying to find the shiniest piece of garbage. I’m not saying that if you’re on a dating site you’re garbage, but it’s so much harder to find a good match and weed out the losers when all I get is a few BS lines and a potentially fake pic to go off. If that’s the world of dating, I don’t want any part of it.
Meeting a promising guy who turns out to be a jerk is disheartening.
Even the no-good guys have this ability to make themselves appear like they’re worthwhile at first. Then the mask comes off, and bam! They’re just gremlins in disguise — and not the cute kind that weren’t fed after midnight. Where have all the good guys gone and why can’t I seem to find any of them? Oh right, they’re already taken or too busy to date at all.
I often go months without crushing on someone.
It takes a lot for me to be genuinely interested in a guy because I just don’t develop feelings for many people. I can go months without thinking romantically about anyone at all and when that happens, I wonder if I’ll ever feel that skip of my heart or flutter in my stomach ever again. It’s kind of scary to think that if I can go that long without it, it may just last forever.
People continuously ask me about my love life and my answer is always the same.
I have literally nothing to say except, “I’ve texted with this guy I met on Tinder a few times.” My love life is so non-existent that when the question comes up, I start grasping at straws just to have a half-decent answer. If I’m being honest, though, I have no love life to speak of, nor do I see one on the horizon.
When love songs come on, I just can’t relate.
I have no one to think about and I can’t remember when I ever did. What’s even worse is that when songs about heartache come on, I have no one to think about then either. I’m so far from both ends of the love spectrum that the last relationship I came out of isn’t hovering in the background and there’s no promise or hint of a new one. I’m stuck in love limbo.
I’m immune to guys hitting on me.
If I do even notice someone hitting on me, which is rare because I’m completely oblivious to that kind of stuff, I fake a smile and speed up so I don’t have to engage in the conversation at all. I don’t mean to seem stuck up or unapproachable but for some reason, it makes me uncomfortable. If I can’t even allow myself a little flirtation, how am I supposed to find a relationship?
I’ve realized I’d rather be alone.
The only person I can spend more than a few hours at a time with is myself. I thoroughly enjoy my own company over anyone else’s and I think that’s a dangerous thing. It’s a slippery slope from enjoying oneself to hating everyone else and I’m afraid that I’m slipping fast.
I have more than one marriage pact with friends.
What started as a joke in my early 20s has become a seriously scary reality. More than one of my guy friends and I have had that “if we’re not married by 40, we’ll marry each other” talk, and the fact that I have more than one backup isn’t exactly a hopeful thing. All that makes me think is that I’m certainly going to be alone until at least then. When the years start counting down I’ll be hoping one of them are too.
When there’s a decent dating prospect, the thought of having him in my space is terrifying.
I have everything the way I want it and I don’t want anyone invading my personal space. When it comes to having a guy over at my place, all I can think about is what he’s going to be judging me for when he steps in the door.
TV shows sprout more emotion in me than anything else.
I came to that realization recently and quite frankly, it scares me to think that the idea of finding the love of my life is less emotional for me than watching a fictional character find theirs on screen over the course of yet another Netflix binge. I know that I’m open to love and that it will come eventually, but this just makes me worry that I won’t be able to feel it when it finally does because of how long I’ve been alone.
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