This post came out in June 2012, at which point I had been single for about two years. Then I met someone this summer. We were together (if you can even call it that) for several months, but then it ended. I deserve better. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. I ran across this post again and it was like this summer never happened. I'm back where I started.
From Thought Catalog
I’ve been single for a long time now. Too long. I feel my private
parts getting swallowed up, making me look like Barbie but with
cellulite and a size-12 waist. I’m starting to forget what it ever felt
like to be in a relationship, what it felt like to always have someone
to call and make plans with. This feeling that someone needed you more
than they needed anyone else. You were their person. You were the person
they left parties early for, just so they could take a drunk cab ride
to your apartment at 3 a.m. and have you be the last person they saw
before they fell asleep. When you’re single, there’s no guaranteed
silver lining to your drunk, no person whose text messages can make you
instantly feel safe and like you always have somewhere to go.
I’ve had this before. I’ve been someone’s + 1 but it never worked
out. I got too bored and anxious, and ended it. I was always the one to
end it. I was dating quality men too. I’m talking about boys who would
always text back and have “I’D BE A REALLY GOOD DAD!” written on their
forehead. I tried so hard to love them as much as they loved me but I
couldn’t or, perhaps more accurately, wouldn’t. I didn’t think that
breaking up would be a big deal. I’d find someone else, someone better.
That’s how it goes. You jump from relationship to relationship. It never
really stops unless you want it to, right?
It does stop. It did stop. Something shifted and all of a sudden
there were no more potential + 1′s. It’s been two years now and I feel
like I’m experiencing some kind of amnesia. I’m forgetting how I ever
was with someone. It doesn’t feel real to me. Was I ever someone’s
person? I honestly don’t remember. And if I was, if I was the person you
could come to drunk at 3 a.m. and cook breakfast with, how did I do it?
Did I smile at the appropriate times? Did I scratch your back? As corny
and Miss Dependent as it sounds, there’s something inside of you that
is kept alive when you’re in love with someone. It’s a vital part of who
you are; you need to be able to give all your love to someone. You need
to feel wanted. It’s as important as drinking water or getting oxygen.
We were built to love and when you don’t have a partner, you feel
totally incomplete. This goes beyond the feeling of shame you get when
you’re alone. It’s more of a biological need.
I’m forgetting more and more each day. I’m forgetting how to
compromise with someone, how to structure my life around someone else. I
mean, it’s not like I ever really did that anyway. I’ve always been
someone who’s needed their alone time and done their own thing. But I do
like this idea of being a team and working together. You spend too much
time alone and you forget how to do that. You forget how to be with
someone other than yourself.
I forget what it’s like to see the same naked body over and over
again, learning every crevice and sketching the outline with my fingers.
I forget what it’s like to feel safe, like if I slipped and died in my
apartment, there would be someone looking for me within the day. I
forget what it’s like to deal with other people’s families, of awkward
blending during the holidays. I forget the excitement you feel when
their birthday is coming up and wanting something so perfect for them.
You would do pretty much anything to see them smile. I forget The Future
with capital letters and having something tangible to look forward to. I
forget what it’s like to love someone when they’re at their most
unlovable. Forget. Forget. Forgotten.