Removed

A little back-story:

I am perpetually single. I can also state that without feeling a nineteenth-century sort of shame about it; it’s of my own doing. Yes, I meet perfectly nice men and go on perfectly nice dates, the sort of dates that other women would kill for. Attentive, polite, humorous dinner partners who understand the unwritten, unspoken rule that nice women likely won’t sleep with them on the first date (out-dated and ridiculous, but I digress). Charming, respectful, intelligent men who call after the first date to request second, third and fourth ones etc. etc. It’s just me who never calls back.

To me singledom isn’t necessarily a problem. To my friends it is (my coupled-up, verging on holier-than-thou friends). They just don’t think it’s normal or appropriate for a woman of my age to spend most of her time alone.

If I’m perfectly honest, neither do I at times.

Yes, I enjoy my own company far more than is decent, but no matter how confident, how content I am, I can never quite shake the feeling that I’m wrong and they’re right; it’s the ultimate in societal peer pressure. Am I normal to find the company of others (in particular potential suitors) tedious and not worth my time? Is it okay that I circumvent the problems all relationships have by always keeping my distance?

As I’ve already mentioned, every once in a while my veneer of independence is shattered as I go on a date or two. I don’t know whether I do so in an attempt to prove myself right or wrong, but go I do. I dress up, I wear my best heels, I laugh, I smile, I have wonderful conversations, but after we’ve said our goodbyes I’m left with a sense of disappointment. Is that it? Is that what a host of women’s glossy magazines is based wholly upon each and every single month? Is that what we’re supposed to be toiling towards in life?

Give me my bed, Bulgakov’s Master & Margarita and a gin and tonic any day.