Vinger Alleen

I didn't know that being single bothered me; until I was. Not so very long ago being female, 21 and unmarried was a fate few woman wished upon themselves. Think Jane Austen, think Ms. Bates - cringe. Although 21 is no longer the put- you-on-the-shelf age, the word Ms. with its serpentine ssssssss at the end has a sting to it, or as Keats puts it "..the very word is like a bell/To toll me back from thee to my sole self!". Being single means there is no thee, but there always seems to be the idea/dream/hope of one hovering in the sub-conscious, flittering and tittering where it wishes. In fact, the concept of being single seems to be tied up with the lack of something and someone else. Something being a relationship. Someone being, most likely, a man you've settled for. I guess, to me, singleness in it's definition appears to be conceived of as a negative somewhat unhappy state. In no way does it have to be or is it all the time, but it does seem to be something that is viewed at as a phase to be enjoyed at a certain time and place in one's life. It's limbo, you can't stay there forever, it's either heaven or hell!!!

Now for some hell is a better state than limbo - it maybe shit but it has a certain certainty about it like, "This is shit but we're in it together".

Writing this, just now, made me realize that I've been single for over a year. And, for much of this time, I've been attempting to avoid and disguise this fact. Filling my time and occassionally my bed out of this idea of loneliness I'd been cultivating within myself for a long time. Singleness was the albatross around my neck and being the delusional, little go-getter that I can be, I was NOT to be had the better of!

So, in thinking I was kicking the shit out of singleness, I was, in fact, kicking the shit out of myself. By trying to avoid being alone and attributing meaning to such meaningless things as sex, words, bumping & grinding, I, myself, was feeding into the fact and feeding the notion that singleness is a sorry, deplorable state to be in. Yesterday I read a quote by the recently deceased Gore Vidal, "Sex is. There is nothing more to be done about it. Sex builds no roads, writes no novels and sex certainly gives no meaning to anything in life but itself". It made me chuckle purely because it is so true and makes so much sense. Logical, right? However, there seems to be a major chasm between what I intellectually know to be true and what maybe called my heart and my sex organs. For some reason I imagined that sex meant intimacy, trust and maybe even love. It appears that the albatross was getting the better of me.

My actions were fueled by the fact that I was alone and was doing everything in my power not to be alone, at the same time never admitting to myself that I was really fucking bothered by being alone. I felt that by admitting I was lonely and wanted a relationship meant I had now become old, pathetic and incredibly uncool. Whereas I was supposed to be young, unpathetic and incredibly cool. However, what I was doing never made me feel that way. I was often heartsore and hurt. Confused as to why someone I felt I had made a connection with could leave my life - POOF!!!

So, with little else left to do, I gave into the albatross.

I started being nice to it. I bought it coffee, watched tv with it and we had long discussions together. In so doing I realized that the albatross really wasn't that bad. That, perhaps, its intense desire to pluck my eyes out was fueled by my own animosity towards it.

And, even though we have our ups and downs our relationship has much improved. I've even realized that there are positive aspects to being single, one of them being not having to share things!! :)