Music: Give Up! by Sherwood
I belong to a barkada whose members are mostly single—three girls and two guys, with only one guy in a long-term relationship. All around us, our batch mates are getting engaged and married left and right, while the people in our little group spend late nights drinking coffee (and tea, in my case, since I’m the little exception to the rule) and wondering when we’ll have our own versions of a happy-ever-after.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not in a hurry to get married. My goal is to get hitched before my 28th birthday, and I still have a pretty long way to go before then. My friends are not worrying too much either—half of the time we’re content hanging out and discussing books, legal cases (one of us is a law student) and our respective jobs, and the other half we end up talking about things that make no sense at all.
Married life is not something I’m really anxious about. I’ve had one disastrous relationship which involved a lot of tears and angry words, and for a long time I’ve been jaded and disillusioned with happy endings. Up until now I am still trying to overcome my cynicism about relationships and the idea of staying faithful to one person for the rest of your life, and I think that has affected my current status. Like I was sending off a negative vibe to people, saying that I do not believe in happily-ever-afters and that happy endings are only happy because they haven’t ended yet.
Still, there are times when I can’t help but ask, “When will it be my turn?” My girlfriends and I would often joke about boys taking a detour and then getting lost along the way, only to be too stubborn not to ask for directions. It’s funny at best and frustrating at worst, and we sometimes vent our annoyance at our lack of romance to the other single guy in the group, who could only do so much to appease our irritation. The other guy isn’t much help either—he’s been in a relationship far too long to understand what we’re going through.
Living in an era riddled with songs and movies about love and relationship can be tough for the singles, particularly to the NBSBs or NGSBs (No Boyfriend/Girlfriend Since Birth) out there. They are usually the ones who feel more pressure about getting in a relationship, especially if everyone around them appears to be in one. Out of desperation they sometimes engage in blind dates or participate in speed dating activities, only to find themselves more frustrated than they originally were.
How does one stay single and sane in a world seemingly filled with couples? I, for one, turn to books. Lots and lots of books. It may seem sad at first, this unfortunate girl substituting a “real” relationship with works by Dean Koontz and Lemony Snicket. Save your sympathy. I am known as a girl who will readily choose a bookshelf over a boyfriend any time of the day. Because unlike a boyfriend who will give you headaches to no end, bookshelves are strong, reliable, and can hold as many books as you wish. But then I guess the comparison is rather inappropriate. I don’t think any guy would appreciate being compared to a chunk of wood anyway.
My point, though, is that in order to lessen the blow of being unattached, you can opt to find other diversions that are more worthy of your time. Try something you’ve never done before. Find a new hobby. Read something interesting, like a new novel, or a non-fiction book about a renowned person. Volunteer for a worthy cause. Or skydive. I personally would not do it, but to each his own, right? Who knows, you just might find your niche in jumping out from planes zipping across the sky.
Or just do what I do: I tell myself, “You’ve waited this long. Why not wait a little longer?” That usually does the trick. Usually.
And to those who have meantime guys and meantime girls, a little word of caution, since I’ve had one myself (and paid dearly for it): In principle, meantime people are convenient, because you get to do fun stuff like having dinner, watching a movie, or just hanging out and talking, without the need to invest on emotions you’re not really ready to invest. The only problem is that you either a) fall in love with your meantime pal, or b) your meantime pal falls in love with you. I didn’t, couldn’t, fall in love with mine, even if I tried. I saw him—no, I still do—as an older brother, and you don’t fall in love with your older brother. That’s called incest. I wish he had done the same. Oh no, he did not fall in love with me (at least I hope he didn’t), but he broke the number one rule in meantime relationships: suggest you two could be something more.
I’m still recovering from that traumatic experience.
(Dear meantime guy, if you’re reading this, I still do not want to talk to you. I love you as a girl would love an older brother, but I don’t think I can face you just yet without feeling the urge to sock you in the face.)
To all the single people out there, cheer up! Chances are, the person next to you in that train or elevator ride is single as well. So you’re not really alone. I know I’m not.
