Being single can be great, but there are plenty of times when being single just blows. Staff writer Rachel Brownjohn gives her own thoughts on just this very opinion of being single.
There are a lot of reasons to love being in a relationship, many of them are moving, and romantic,
and practical, and sane. Some are not. This is one of those. There are days, weeks, MONTHS, where
I wish I were in a relationship, not for the right reasons (like trust and companionship, blah blah
blah), but so I won’t have to talk about relationships so much. I realize I’m writing this for a site about
relationships, the irony is not lost on me. But you see, I love love! I love it! It’s fantastic! I love being in it!
Love. Is. Great. But sometimes I’m not in it, and it seems like those are the times I have to talk about it
I feel like when I’ve found love, when I’m in the throes of something really mushy and lovely that
makes me write gaggy poetry about feeling like conversations are a slow dance, I don’t talk about it!
Not because I don’t want to, necessarily (although usually when I’m in something that is going well
there isn’t much to say from the sheer fact that if I said everything I was feeling it would be WAY TOO
MUCH), but because there comes a point where details are just over sharing, and when coupledom is so
established that it isn’t dissected anymore, the milestones have been reached. It seems, that the more
serious relationships get, the more private they become. I ask my married friends how their husbands
are, but I wouldn’t dream of asking them something like my single gal pals and I ask each other. I would
NEVER throw the oh so loaded, “Well… did you do anything? How was it???” their way. Because that is
their husband! That relationship is sacred now and stuff. Gross out.
When I’m in a (healthy and happy) relationship it seems to me that I spend a lot less time analyzing,
and a lot more time talking about fun things I’ve done lately, or movies I’ve seen, or restaurants I’ve
eaten at, or classes I’m taking, or ANYTHING other than with whom I’ve shared awkward drinks and
small talk with.
And I’m totally guilty of doing the same thing to my other single friends (Le sigh). Obviously, I want
them to dish about every single one of their dates. Obviously, I hound them for details. Obviously, I’m
lame and annoying too.
I miss being in a relationship because I miss the things I’m actually doing being way cooler stories than
the fact that someone else has found my company worth calling for. Most times, I didn’t do a whole
lot of anything to make that happen. It may or may not have resulted from something dumb I wrote
on my online dating profile (about how my dog looks like a hyena, or spinning in my office chair), or
tripping conveniently on the train, or WALKING DOWN THE STREET (it happened). Low stuff on my list of
achievements, you guys.
So I miss having a relationship that has crossed the line from the – still dating – picking apart text
messages with my girlfriends to the – official couple status – sharing opinions on Netflix cues – for the
sheer fact that no one wants to hear about that. I miss it. And it’s petty. And I know that everyone
(including me, when I’m the culprit) is not being an asshole when they ask single folks about who they
are dating. I understand that it is great to hear zany/awful blind date stories. Or that people want to
know who is behind that big grin escaping as texts light up your phone all afternoon. Or that they want
you to find someone special. Or that there isn’t much to say about the weather that day. I get it. But
sometimes, I really just miss getting to talk about the other stuff.
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