For the first time in my life, I mean it: I’m not interested. My most recent escapades in the valleys and mountains of love have left me thoroughly exhausted. I’m yearning for more of this life of solitude I have been living for the last 6 months. Actually, that’s a stretch. I was still pining after somebody until about a month ago.
I may also be lying about not being interested because when I do go out I do still find myself scoping out the ‘hotties’ in the vicinity but I fear that it’s purely out of habit. The thing is the universe seems to agree that I should stay single and uninterested for a while. Every cute guy I see has something or another wrong with him: he’s married or taken, or too young or too old, or just plain uninterested. And when I think about it, even if he was interested I’m not so sure I would actually want to do anything about it.
I’m not sad either. I’m perfectly happy going home and knowing that I have no one to worry about; no one to cook for. I have no one to update if I have to work late, or change my plans suddenly. I’m even enjoying my army of pillows that surround me in my queen sized bed. And I love not having to consider that someone I might be cooking for doesn’t like cucumbers or cooked carrots or whatever the hell other weird food consideration. To put it in good ol’ Johnny1’s words, I’m perfectly lonely.
I don’t think this is going to last forever; no, I love ‘love’ way too much for that. But right now, I’m just tired of sharing so much of my heart all the time. Something that makes me a little sad to say because I really liked being able to do that without much hesitance. Oh well though, everything happens for a reason.
So tell me, has this ever happened to you?