I want someone who’s been in my life previous to me falling in love with them. Why did I think it was a good idea to take this path? I’m doing something different. I was putting myself out there. Therefore, I can’t be blamed for being single. I took a chance, I ran at the risk and while it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, it made me realize: it just isn’t going to happen this way. I am not an easy way out kind of girl. I know now that things don’t come easily to me, and that this is just my fate. My cards have been dealt; it’s up to me to know when to fold them, know when to hold them, know when to walk away and know when to win.
This path is not falling in love. What a joke. It’s finding a good enough candidate and forcing it to happen. It’s having expectations – already planning out what you will and won’t tell the other person. There’s no other reason to be there, other than to hopefully cash out a winner.
I cannot take this path because it goes against everything I am. Jumping into a frigid body of water, and flailing around is not my style. Beyond taking risks, I never show my true colors until I know the water is warm. I never jump in, and not for fear of drowning, but it takes time for me to be drawn out, or drawn in. One never knows my true colors upon initial meeting, not after a few drinks, not after warnings about wrong impressions. You absolutely cannot rush me; I take my time.
Putting a profile on a website declaring who I am and what I want is everything I am not. I might wear t-shirts that bark snarky comments, but despite you perhaps knowing my bra size and my affinity for sarcasm, you really still know nothing about me. It takes time; months even, to see me. Who I really am as the wolf inside the sheep. No profile that only allows me only 2000 words is going to properly convey who I am. To anyone.
It’s not common knowledge that I like having my hair pulled when things get heated. No one knows that a gnashing of teeth on my earlobe sends me into a tailspin or that I like it when it hurts. When people discover such things they often follow up with a shocked, “Why are you single?” Because I don’t advertise, or broadcast what turns me on. And when I display kindness, thoughtfulness, or love they wonder even further how I escaped being snapped up.
I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve or my story on my surface. I traveled the path of least resistance because I wanted to put an end to the endless barrage of questions. I wanted someone to love, without having to consider if my love was wanted or reciprocated. I don’t want to be standing alone in a sea of couples at Christmas, because then, then everything that is wrong with your life is glaring, too apparent, and hard to swallow. When all you see is the perfect in others, the flaw in you is too obvious. I don’t want to have to have someone to make somebody else comfortable. I don’t want to have to have someone to fit in.
It’s not a compliment when people ask why you’re single, and then list all the reasons you shouldn’t be. Being single when you don’t want to be is hard enough, but then to deal with sideways glances, build-ups that lead to let downs is too much to bear. Being made to feel inadequate because you need someone to be someone is fucked up. I am an entire person by myself.
Love is not going to come to me over a broadband connection. It’s almost as unlikely as being a Bachlorette. I don’t know much about where my life is headed; I have ideas, dreams, and goals, but there is one thing I know is true. I’ll only find love when it is already a part of my life.