For the most part, I am very comfortable being single. Being single means I can do what I want, when I want, and not have to explain myself. It also means that there is absolutely no chance of me falling for a jerk. It’s a perk.
However, there are times that my single-hood is downright painful for me to acknowledge. It is on those days that I want to get on the bar, throw my hands in the air, and yell for mercy from the sudden attack of the lonely blues.
The sun was officially back in New York City last night so the girls and I decided to kick this experiment into high gear. It was great in theory except for the fact that I get more butterflies over chocolate Ben and Jerry’s ice cream than I did over any of the guys around.
Either the guys were in their clusters and wanted no girl around them, the stench of workaholism hung in the air OR they were gay.
Then to further dig the dagger of spinster-hood deeper, the only guy that approached me was a guy old enough to be my father.
This bald, short, older excuse for a man started talking to me as I sat at the bar. Seeing that I wasn’t having it, he decides to switch his approach.
Since WHEN is it okay to stroke someone’s arm when they clearly want to punch you in the face?
I readily admit that I may have “Daddy Issues” but do you know how I solve them? I go to concerts and get front row for gorgeous rockstars in their 40’s and 50’s. I yell, scream and get myself into such a frenzy that my toes literally curl.
I have no use for a man whose old enough to have a daughter I can be best friends with.
Nights like that always trigger the loud, obnoxious, ticking of my biological clock. I also realize that this sick, unhappy feeling is a fleeting one. Tomorrow I will wake up and laugh at how silly I’m being. Everyone is meant for someone. I, nor you reading this, will die alone.
Tell me, have you ever had a sudden attack of the lonely blues? What do you do to get rid of them?