I can’t believe I’m going to say this and probably jinx everything, but 25 has been a good year so far. We still have 10 months left to go, but it’s already gone better than 23 and 24 even combined, so that’s saying a lot.
The funny thing is, though, that up until probably this week, I was feeling incredibly depressed and lonely. It’s funny, how even the smallest good event(s) can make me forget about all the bad that I’ve been feeling. As cliché and unhelpful as it is to hear, things really do get better with time.
Part of the reason for my depression in the previous weeks, as I mentioned above, was loneliness. Where I live, I am far from nearly all of my friends, and I have been feeling rather isolated as of late. And when I begin feeling isolated, I come back full circle to this realization of my single-ness.
This single-ness has been a trait that I’ve possessed for a decent period of time now. At this point, I really should be used to it. Sure, there have been a few random almost-somethings, or situationships, or whatever you want to call them over the past year and a half (wow, actually, today would mark exactly a year and a half of me being single, almost to the exact time. I can’t figure out how embarrassing it is that I know this off-hand…), but nothing that I ever for even a moment thought would turn into the real thing.
This brings me to a conversation and a realization that happened recently. Over the past month, I’ve had two situations that were a one-and-done kind of deal. A date where I was ghosted afterward, and a drunken bar adventure night with a dude who never texted me after. And you know what? I don’t really care. Do you know why I don’t really care? Because it’s just what I’m used to now. It’s a standard that I’ve grown to expect.
A while after things ended with my ex and I had been involved with a couple of other dudes who ended up being kind of shitty, I told myself, and many others, that I had a new standard that I wouldn’t budge from from here on out. I am not chasing after anyone anymore. You’re interested in me? Then you make the first move. If not, tough luck, I’m out. I’m tired of being the one who cares way more and wants way more and loves way more. It’s draining and doesn’t make me feel good, and I’m honestly just over it.
So, for now, I’m not surprised when I’m ghosted or ignored, and it probably won’t bother me. And if it’s going to be this way, then, so be it.
But anyway, the point of that whole spiel is to say that when I feel lonely in other aspects of my life, it makes me miss the days where I had a steady person to turn to. A person who I could spend an evening with that I would have otherwise spent alone. I start to crave this kind of attention and relationship again.
The thing that gets me out of this rut, though, is remembering that even when I had my person, I still spent plenty of Friday nights alone, because he was with his friends instead of me. I still spent millions of Saturday nights at the bar as the third/fifth/ninth/seventeenth wheel, because he just didn’t want to come out and actually spend time with my friends more than once a season. And there were plenty of nights in between where he didn’t really feel like hanging out, but just did it to appease me. Or that I made him mad and he wasn’t really into being around me, but I had been drinking so I had to stay. Or a million and one other things that happened in that relationship that weren’t awesome. And then I realize that, through all these memories, I’ve always been fine on my own. Sure, I had more of a person than I have now, but it isn’t anything compared to the person I hope to have in the future. There was more that could have happened, that could have made me happier, that didn’t happen.***
So, for now, there are just shitty behaviors from men that, while they aren’t okay or excusable, are things that I can handle and brush off/get past/tolerate, because they let me know that that person isn’t what I want. My depression/loneliness has subsided for the most part, so these things aren’t going to bother me for the moment. These are things that, like the bought of depression that I felt, will be over with someday, and I won’t be able to remember how much I at times didn’t like it. At least, that’s my hope for the future.
I’m going to try to keep making 25 a good time, and if I find my person along the way, it happens. And if not, there’s always 26.
***Not trying to say that my ex was some horrible human being that didn’t care about me or anything. He hurt me a lot, yeah, but I can think of a few points in the relationship where I wasn’t perfect either. But in all honesty, these were very real, reoccurring issues on his part. He knew I wasn’t happy about this stuff because I communicated this to him, but it all still kept happening anyway. So yeah, that’s my disclaimer for ya.