Why I’m Single Part 1/n
Realizing my degree of singleness
Sometime in between the ages of 20 to 30, you start to feel a pressure. And it’s not like a blood pressure kind of pressure, the kind you start to develop if you work an office job where you sit around all day and eat unhealthy things like your boogers while typing away at a keyboard. It’s the pressure of looking down the barrel of the gun of eternal solitude. Everyone else around you is dating. Except you. You’re a little abnormal, right? Somehow, everyone’s found someone, and that someone ain’t you.
I was taking a walk with my coworker and he was talking about his friends. “Yeah, we don’t meet up much because we’re are all dating and shit. I miss the old days sometimes, you know?” That innocuous statement, which really just was him describing his life with no special spin on it, hit me like a one-two throat punch. The one being that I’ve been single for the last 4 years, and my last and only dating experience barely counted since it was 3 months, so if you don’t count that, single for the entirety of my life. The two being that even if I’m single, I have no friend group to hang with. Imagine having a friend group. Sometimes, I talk to myself in different voices and personas to simulate social situations.
< my imaginary friends >
Nowadays, a lot of people describe dating as a market, and if you aren’t dating, it usually means that you’re unwanted goods. It’s as if if you were a snack, and a company sold only you, they would be out of business in 3 hours. In Japan, they used to call women above 25 Christmas cakes because after their 25th birthday, they weren’t good anymore. I’m not a woman, or Japanese, but I’m basically a Christmas cake male at this point. Once I’ve gone bad, I’ll have lost my use, and I’ll be tossed in the incinerator, where all the other Christmas cakes go. Whee!
I may be at a degree of singleness that is truely irreparable. If this was a videogame, I’d be pressing the surrender button and typing in chat “Go next gg get me out of this game”
Why I’m single 1/n
There are many reasons I’m single. One reason is that women don’t see me as a protective figure. I’m 5’5 and built like a twink. I’ve got that Asian babyface, and probably could still pass as a high school senior, so the only people I look threatening to are 5 year olds that think I look hideous, and ask pesky questions like “Why do you never leave your room?”.
And if you factor in my personality, I become more of a safety hazard than protection. If you’ve read the other things on my blog, you would know that I’m not exactly the spitting image of mental stability. My brain is like a bomb that’s constantly on a 5 second timer. The only reason I’ve not exploded yet is because every time it reaches zero, I just tick the timer back to 5. I have a looser grip on reality than most people, and I’m afraid I’ll just lose it one day and go batshit insane. My mind usually chooses to go in directions that conflict heavily with polite society, and I have a wild imagination that lets me self-insert into practically any fictional story of my choice. I’ll sit there for days, in a catatonic prison of my own devices, staring into a screen, enjoying my absolute disconnect with reality. I can’t even watch non-animated shows anymore. I think the way real people move and talk are boring, and I’d rather immerse myself in a world of beautiful art and fluid movement that real humans could never replicate.
The end of the pity party
I’m drafting this important manuscript at the wee hours of 1am getting off a cold having done nothing all day but do laundry and eat snacks. I have zero self control. I opened a pack of gummies and just sat there watching youtube and eating gummies for what seemed like 5 minutes, and all the gummies were gone. I wanted to cry. Not only were all the gummies gone, I also felt really fat. Now I see a panda when I look in the mirror. Dark circled fatass. It’s probably because my lifestyle closely resembles that of a panda. Sit around and masticate. I need to start eating bamboo instead or some shit.
If you’re not single, and you’ve read this far, I want to tell you that I don’t want your pity. This is a pity party, but a pity party for miserable single people who just want to give up and feel defeated instead of being disappointed again. You’re not invited. Actually, no, you can come, but we’re all going to talk about how single we are. Not only do we have nothing better to talk about, but also we are making our best effort to make you feel excluded.
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