While loading CD’s onto my computer for free at the public library (always on a budget), I picked up a book and watched iTunes like a kettle on a stove. However, I soon found my mind drifting from the newly pressed pages to the open space around me. The public library isn’t a particularly exciting place. It hosts an older crowd with high-waisted pants and large sweaters. And while the ascetic may resemble a Brooklyn coffee shop, I felt severely out of place. As each person glanced in my direction I wondered how I came off. Do I seem friendly? Open? Is my resting face positive and bright? Or do my lips curve down? A relatively young man walked by and followed suit with his gaze, and I kept my eyes on my book, the whole time wondering if he thought I was cute.
I’ve found this phenomenon to be true no matter where I am. If I’m in Boston getting lost on the streets, drinking a cup of coffee with far too much sugar at Starbucks, or while I’m reading at the library, I am consumed with my attractiveness to the opposite sex. When will the next man flirt with me? How many times is too many times to glance up towards someone across the bar? I’m obsessed with the notion of being somebody’s something. I want to be a girlfriend. I want to be branded as ‘romantically acceptable’ by walking down the street and holding someone’s hand.
Of course, as a feminist and aspiring nonprofit executive director, I still worry about my career and professional network. However, the feeling of loneliness doesn’t stray with professional or economic success. It is only temporarily masked- for me anyway.
I’m not alone with this feeling. I’ve talked to friends, strangers and coworkers about the desire for a relationship. What has led this group of young twenty-somethings to believe that if you’re single at 22 of 23 or 24 or 25, that you’ll be single forever? I always thought I’d meet the one in college, but alas, I left college with nothing but a few disappointing hook ups and an embarrassing list of men who broke my heart.
I know that it’s irrational. I know I should be out celebrating my independence, but after completely falling on my face with every new relationship- I just need a win. It’s one of those thoughts that appears for a moment, and just as quickly it is swatted away for being ridiculous. But I still feel compelled to openly discuss it- as it is as true as it is silly. So cheers to the single and alone 22, 23, 24, and 25 year-olds. Here is to a lifetime of loneliness and discontent!
BOOTS & BISOUS 