Do you think there was ever a time when breakups were just
breakups? Imagine how nice it must have been to sit through the awkward half
hour conversation of, “This isn’t working”, and then go home and drink yourself
to sleep dreading the next time you’d awkwardly run into him.
Nowadays, you have to go home and drink yourself to sleep
while purposefully running into them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to see
if they’ve posted anything that proves they’re as devastated and regretful as
you want them to be. There are no longer coincidental run-ins, only stalker
set-ups when you happen to think you look really cute today, and it might be
worth taking a cab to the Starbucks they just checked into on Foursquare before
their cappuccino is even frothed.
Or maybe just update your OKCupid photos since you know they’ve
been looking at your profile anyway. They track that shit.
Last night, before I had even finished my first martini, my
best friend mentioned I might be a little…”desperate”. She was lucky I’d
already eaten the olives and was against wasting liquor, or she’d have been
blinded by a flying garnish.
But that’s what best friends are for, right? To tell us the honest truth?
NO, YOU IDIOTS! Best friends are for saying that you were
the prettiest one at prom and you were robbed of the crown because everybody
was jealous!
OK, maybe I see her point.
The problem is, America, that this is the longest I haven’t
had a serious relationship since I was 19. And by “serious”, I mean a jealous
boyfriend who constantly texts me wondering where I am while I tell him he’s
not the boss of me. And I miss that.
My best friend says I need to be OK with being alone before I can fully open my heart to
another person. Then again, she’s had one boyfriend and they’ve been dating for
over six years, so maybe she’s not the most qualified to judge me about my “serial
dating addiction”. Plus, I spend most of my time staring into the mirror
practicing my angles, so I think I’m pretty good at being alone.
Though, I did put in a work request for dimmer lighting in my
bathroom. At least until I get my summer glow.
By the end of my second martini and a lot of fried food, I
figured my best friend might have a point. I decided to spend last night
watching movies, by myself…reflecting…in my twin bed…with four stuffed animals.
Oh GOD I’m going to die alone,
TJB: Making It
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