on never having a boyfriend

being a yearner without a boyfriend

the love bears by me

˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎

I’ve been told I seem like the kind of girl, who wouldn’t have a boyfriend. After a while, I realised that’s actually quite an insult.

I only realised this when someone else pointed it out to me (on a date, too, lol!)

They don’t mean it as an insult. They mean it as a strange kind of compliment. I guess they tell you because you seem powerfully inaccessible. Independent. Self-reliant.

I do have an inherent sense of singleness about me, and while it’s nice to imagine sharing my life with someone, it seems claustrophobic. I like having my own space to retire to.

I am a very anxiously attached person, yet I’m also avoidant. I can’t find the courage to flirt with someone I would actually like. I go for the low-hanging fruit. I should wait for the ripest, juiciest grape. But the thing is, I get sick of waiting, and I get hungry, and a grape is a grape. (Right?)

Whenever I start dating someone, I can’t help but skip ahead to the sweeter parts. I skip to when I know the pressure of their kiss as well as the back of my hand. To when they’ve laughed with my parents. To them casually resting their hands on me because they know my body as well as their own. I imagine it all.

I have always romanticised people, a dangerous habit. If wanting what I couldn’t have was a disease, I’d be riddled with every bloody ailment you could name on the planet.

I always yearn for the unattainable. So much so, that the idea of being loved consumes me daily. Yet, I’m sure if it were handed to me on a silver platter, I’d probably wrinkle my nose up at it. Because once the chase is over, I’m not so sure I want it anymore.

I’ve fallen into a pattern of falling for people who can’t give me what I need. I build a perfect idea of who I think a person is, instead of who they are. This perfect version of them clambers to the very forefront of my mind, screaming for space. The more elusive and emotionally unavailable they seem, the better. This leaves more space for my imagination to mould them into something beautiful to daydream about.

An allure of mysteriousness reels me in. However, still, waters don’t always run deep, and once I find the person I have created vs the real-life version of them is completely different, I feel conflicted about my feelings for them.

It’s unfair of me to expect a real person to live up to this romanticised version of themselves I’ve created in my mind.

Yet, I watch the easy intimacy my friends have with their partners, the way their relationships seem to fall right into their laps and slot nicely into their lives. People in love certainly have a magnetism about them.

I watch on in kind of bittersweet envy at how easy it seems for them, while everything for me always seems to be so bloody complicated. That kind of empty bottomless feeling sets in, because I’m never the ‘one’ for someone. And as my friends settle into routines with their partners I can’t help but feel left behind.

It’s always something I’ve craved. But I wonder if that, in itself, is what drives people away. They see the needy animalness of it, clawing helplessly out of me, like a wounded baby animal.

I always feel like if I genuinely like someone, I can feel myself twisting into someone more sarcastic, someone with a meaner edge to my voice. Because god forbid, they know I like them, even though they definitely know. It’s always painfully obvious.

I feel stupid and pathetic when I like someone like I would walk miles out of my way home just for the chance of bumping into them. I want to shower them with gifts. I want to make them things. I want them to know I love absolutely every inch of them. I want them to know how much I love them.

I see the relief and excitement flood in my friends’ eyes when I talk about a guy who seems promising, and I wish I could draw and squeeze it out. I don’t want them to be excited for me, because I have the niggling feeling, a few weeks, or months later it will all crumble to ash.

I don’t want to crush that look, like the kind of proud hopefulness your parents have in their eyes before you tell them you failed the exam.

When I find someone that feeds my soul, it feels like there’s a timer in my mind. It slowly counts down our days, right down to the second when it all inevitably goes wrong.

I know that’s not a healthy way to think, you can’t base every new experience you have on previous ones, however, my brain can’t help but pick up on patterns and cues and try and predict the future.

I stop myself from getting excited about potential romance. I try and tame my emotions. I’ll wait until I think it’s safe. Once I’ve let them peer at me a bit closer, that’s when it seems to go wrong. So am I undateable?

I don’t seem to have this potential girlfriend allure, I know people fancy me or find me attractive, funny or sweet; I get called that a lot. But it’s never enough. I think people are scared of how full my heart is; it’s fit to burst, I think they know they can’t give me what I want, and me them.

I want someone to look at me in that kind of love-sick way like they love me so badly they would steal a star from the sky for me because I thought it looked pretty.

These things happen instead: I deep it and realise I wasn’t that into him; I ghost him (which is rare now; I usually communicate unless I feel I don’t owe them anything), or he ghosts me, or radio silence on both ends, a kind of mutual fizzle out, or he doesn’t want a serious relationship right now. Or was he just a nob?

(Or he does genuinely like me but self-sabotages it before it even gets started!) There’s always something, some obstacle; it’s never straightforward, it seems.

Frances Ha

It’s frustrating to let my guard down, get excited and then be disappointed all over again. But unfortunately, that is what dating is. However, it does seem like an everlasting cycle.

Like the serpent Ouroboros, I have my tail in my mouth, and I am constantly being devoured and reborn, over and over again, and I hope each time, I transform into a version of myself that people will like and maybe want to sleep with.

The thing is, I’m perfectly lovable because my lovely friends chose to love me. It just hasn’t happened, which in a way I’m grateful for, because looking back at the guys I’ve entertained, it’s a good thing I didn’t date them properly… (because…oh my god)

My friends joke I have an awful taste in men, which, I can only agree with on past decisions. But I’m looking for someone nice now, and I think I’m going to try and not look that hard either, and stop redownloading Hinge.

Entire communities are made up because of the way people love each other. So I think it’s okay to want a boyfriend. Even though it seems to be somewhat of an embarrassing want, and a selfish one at that. Because I want someone to love me and make me feel good.

But I don’t think anyone understands how hard I love. I feel I'm that person who always cares more. Even if it’s just a smidge. I can feel the echo of it inside me, loud and heavy, a dull, repetitive sound. My body cries out for me to be loved and to be loved sweetly, in a pure, adulterated way, like teenage sweethearts.

I am a confusing, ambiguous mess of a person. I find my feelings very hard to organise. My personality feels like something I’m still growing into, like a rather large overcoat. I feel like people always think I seem very put together, but I definitely don’t feel like that, so I wonder how I would fit a boyfriend into everything.

I don’t believe in the right person at the wrong time, as I have stated before (and written a whole post about, lol!) You can’t work your life until it’s in perfect working order and then decide you want to meet someone.

I don’t think it works like that. I think if you meet someone and you like them, you’ll make it work. Otherwise, they just don’t like you enough, and you deserve better than that. No one is going to feed their soulmate morsels.

I am aware that this is a very all encompassing statement, and there are many scenarios where this may not be true, but I don’t think waiting around for people to decide to love you properly does you any good.

In the hours when It’s just me and my noisy brain, this is what it tells me it wants…

I want a love that bites. I want a love that tears and scratches like a wild animal. I want a love that tears my flesh, clean off the bone. I want to be a love’s prey. I’m tired of pretending I don’t. I want that easy intimacy; I want to whisper something funny into someone’s beautiful ear while a band I like is playing. I want affection to swarm me as bees swarm in the summer.

adult single by me

However, I’ll be right because, as Aubrey Plaza says in The To Do List, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Which was originally said by Gloria Steinem I believe. But anyway lots of love

fawn girl xx

˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎⁺ ☆˚✧₊⁎⁺༚☆˚✧₊⁎

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