Right: back to self-obsessed introspection.
I’m single. I’ve been single for a few years, and knowing me, I’ll be single for at least a few more – I don’t meet people I’m interested in very often, and I have serious problems getting the nerve up to say anything about it, for a variety of reasons. This doesn’t bother me overly. I’m sure I’ve said that on here before. There are times I watch the sun set and think things like “the only way this could be better is if there were someone share it with”, or wish I had someone to confide in in a way I can’t in my friends – not through any fault of theirs, simply that a relationship with a lover is very different to one with a friend. But for the most part, I’m content to be single.
But over the last few days, I’ve never regretted it more. Not in the way you might think – yes it’d be nice to have someone to turn to, but to be honest, I’m as well equipped to deal with this sort of thing as anyone can be. Not even to have someone I can help, exactly – I’m not good at helping people with this sort of thing. It’s just at times like this that I miss being able to do stupid things with a partner in crime. Deciding to blow off work and go shopping together. Staying up all night for the sake of it. Something to remind us both that the fun hasn’t gone out of the world. Dealing with this together.
I’m sure I’m not alone if feeling like this. I just thought it was worth noting.