Giving up on love

It was an unfortunate realisation that dawned on me as I sat at the dinner table with my good friend Ruby. She was the kind of girl that had countless stories of sexual intrigue to keep me entertained until my fake proverbial cows came home from wherever it is they go (cow school or whatever). After her last attempt at making her nightmare of a sex situation into a relationship failed she had fell into a strange stupor and suddenly her stories became less about bruised vaginas and more about wine times with in semi rural Victoria.

The realisation I came to was the fact that Ruby, much like most of the single people in my life, had abandoned hope of establishing any kind of meaningful relationship with another person because most people are a-holes. What’s interesting I suppose is the fact that we’ve given up so young. What happened to the pluck that Carrie Bradshaw (at the ~refined~ age of 65) championed for singletons in SATC – WHERE HAD THAT CONFIDENCE GONE? WAS SARAH JESSICA PARKER’S STRUGGLE ALL IN VAIN? ANSWER PENDING. Being 22 and single is not as awesome as pop songs will have you believe. Taylor, you are the only one feeling 22 right now. The rest of us carry a Generation Y burden of needing to get our shit together ASAP, because that’s what adults do, but with no real long term vision of what that would even be.

So we attempt to control the deeply unsuccessful area of our love-life by choosing to shut down from romantic possibilities a la Adele’s brilliant song ‘Right as Rain’. I suppose the intended effect is below

But instead, if you have friends like Ruby (aka me) after you share your stories about how your family spent the weekend together you might get a response like

“Soooooo, the love life part of your life has died huh?”

(She didn’t take that very well.)

Having done the same thing myself I was not in a position to heckle her too much. The feeling of choosing to be alone does somewhat comfort you in a world that seems hellbent on punishing people for doing things alone (the sooner they invent the one seat restaurant table, the closer we are to world peace). You can convince yourself that having someone whose feelings you need to consider would be an ultimate burden on your groovy lifestyle and that you’re grateful that you don’t have to. It is somewhat unnerving however when you realise even if you weren’t choosing to be alone, you probably still would be.


In Alice’s and my attempt to recreate the scene from Girls at Family Planning we took ourselves to the sexual health clinic to make sure our bits weren’t about to detach and form a mutinous genital colony in Serbia. I happened to notice a person that was of mutual note (idk, this is probably the best way to describe my relationship with said subject) that I had always thought piqued Alice’s interest – naturally I texted this immediately to Alice before answering the nurses questions. There’s only one place more awkward to make eye contact with someone you slightly know, and that is at a urinal. Alice is known for many things: baking, singing at a certified SINGSTAR level, cutting yet astute comments, being an awful mother – but amongst these qualities spontaneity in regards to social interactions where there is chance for rejection is not one of them.

She managed to get a coffee with the guy out of the whole ordeal (despite the fact, neither of the drink coffee? Figure that one out WINK) and what I noticed proceeding that was how, well, excited Alice was to be both making an impression on someone and being impressed by them as well. It was the kind of electricity that can only be inspired by new interactions. Similarly Ruby took my words to heart and ended up sleeping with a man closely connected with her ex-boyfriend. She spent most of Monday asking me why he hadn’t texted her back yet, and although that paints a sad portrait for you she was back to the game playin’, man seducin’ ways that gave her character so much charm.

Suddenly I have to look at myself (let’s be real, my favourite activity) but in a introspective thoughtful way (oh… lame) and realise by cutting myself off from romantic possibilities I’m cutting myself off from great connections with people that may not work out, but definitely intrinsically enrich our lives in the way only human interaction can. Suddenly don’t feel so great about Adele’ing myself*

P.S – Adele’ing oneself can also refer to masturbating while crying and/or eating

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