The way it used to be

Single...

How is it that I have gotten here? 30, single. Oh so very single, embarrassingly in fact…through bad decisions, compromise, sheer stubbornness. Single, born of solitude and the ease of being alone, in not having to be accountable. Being single means being a kid.

I am a kid. A 30-year-old-kid. Oh sure, I have a house and a dog and a big tv and a stereo to make noise, to keep the silent still house full, with noise. The thing I miss most about not living alone; is getting to be alone, to have the entire house to myself, it was special, but then thrilling to hear the garage door open. Empty but full; knowing that soon enough someone would be there to share the space, the air, to breathe with the breaths of someone else. That’s why I have Jake.

I lie. I did not have a choice in having Jake. Jake was chosen for me, or at least, Jake chose me. But either way, I had no choice in the matter. But back to breath. It soothes me. He breathes deeply, weighted, slowly, so close to a snore but not, just a deep steady in-and-out breath.

Have I said today is wonderful? That’s my word, wonderful. I love words. How they sound…what they mean, just love them. But wonderful because; you make your day. You decide the outcome. If you keep saying, why did this happen to me, or poor, poor me, or just have a crappy attitude in general; you will make crap. So, something wonderful is bound to happen today. (Say it everyday.)

But to contradict myself, miserable is absolutely my favorite word. Love the way it sounds when you draw it out all slow. Mizzzzz-errrrr-uhhhh-bulll. M-i-s-e-r-a-b-l-e. Even said with a half-scowl. It’s simply wonderful. Ah, but I digress again, or maybe for the first time (here) but definitely not the last. So where was I?

How could I forget? Single. Not suddenly single like the freakishly tall Brooke Shields, stepping over small houses, just plain single. But dating. So how are people supposed to meet each other anyway? At the gym? in the grocery store? through the friends? at school (now work?) while driving? or worse, at a bar? Where. ‘Cause I’ve tried them all. Am constantly talking to people, smiling, saying “hi”, being outgoing, going out, not talking on my cell phone, being available, looking available; but not too available, never too available. Too available is not good.

Ever look too long? Get caught looking, not looking because you necessarily are interested in knowing that person but looking because they happen to be where you were looking. They were in your space, and still are. And because it is your space, you keep looking back. So much that they catch you looking, at them! Even though you weren’t! But busted anyway.

So being single sucks. It makes for long lazy days of doing nothing and getting nothing done even though there’re a million things to do. Sure, there are sudden manic bursts of energy with profuse cleaning or exercise or writing. It’s not that I ‘m lazy but that I focus my energy towards other things, in other directions. Like for instance, towards going out...