Sundays are great. In the fall, there’s football, in the spring, there’s hockey, and year round there are plenty of unlimited mimosa brunches to choose from in New York. Gorgeous, sunny Sundays are perfect for wandering around Central Park… cold, rainy Sundays are perfect for snuggling under a blanket and watching six hours of bad reality TV. It’s a great day to be lazy.
But when you’re single and lonely, lazy Sundays are torture.
They start off well enough. You get to lay on the couch in your pajamas, watching the Pens thoroughly smack down the Bruins, and you love it, because beating a Boston team at anything brings you immense satisfaction. And you might make some kielbasa and sauerkraut in the crock pot, and it turns out delicious, and you are smiling and full. But then it’s 4pm, and you have nothing to do – but more importantly, no one to do it with – and you start to feel down.
Yeah, I have great friends. And if I called any of them right now, I might get in touch with them and meet them out for a frozen yogurt or a walk in the park. But I don’t really want to. What I want right now is a guy to lean against on my couch, or a guy to hold my hand as I walk through the park, or a guy to treat me to that frozen yogurt. I love my friends, and I know I’m supposed to be a strong, independent single woman, but the truth is, it’s exhausting.
I’m sick of it. I’m sick of killing spiders on my own. I’m sick of cooking dinner by myself every night. I’m sick of spending so much time by myself. I’m going to say the one thing you’re never supposed to say when you’re single: I want a boyfriend. I’m lonely, and I’m frustrated, and I’m sad. Being all those things leads to crying, or eating way too much ice cream, or looking at the Facebook pages of people you really shouldn’t look at, and that leads to seeing a picture of your ex with his arm around someone who isn’t you, at your college. On the very wall you sat after you got engaged. And all the shit people have told you about patience and karma and everything else over the past few years begins to go out the window. It’s impossible to have patience and believe in karma when you see someone who has hurt you so terribly, and doesn’t deserve to be happy, smiling with his arm around someone else. You start asking, why does he get that? Why don’t I? You start to think about what’s wrong with you, why nothing seems to be working out. You wonder what the secret is of all the friends you have who are happy with boyfriends or girlfriends and what you’re doing wrong.
I don’t want pity. I really don’t. But what I want is something to just happen. I need something good to happen, in some part of my life. I need to be reassured that good things happen to good people. Because right now, the way things are going, I’m not convinced.