The Trouble with One

On a few recent occasions, when friends have inquired about my dating life, I expressed some exhaustion with it. As I near the end of my three-month stint on a harmonious online dating site, I haven't been matched with anyone on the 29 dimensions of compatibility that's resulted in that 30th dimension - actually being someone I wanted to date.

And since that 30th dimension seems to continually elude me, I've started contemplating the very real possibility that there's not someone out there for me. When I say this, it is not accompanied by a litany of my faults and insecurities. It is not backed up with a diatribe against my neuroses and cottage cheese thighs. In fact, the word "because" doesn't factor in...because I don't know why this is the case.

At a recent happy hour with coworkers, a good friend and coworker called bullsh*t on me repeatedly. Maybe because he assumed that my monologue of faults was just 'round the bend, but then, after I calmed him down and explained my position, he still angrily denied the possibility that I could be alone.

I think that this argument comes from a place of affection - those who care about me don't want me to be alone. There's the impulse to defend my honor to me and force me to acknowledge my finer attributes, even though I wasn't making an attack on myself in the first place.

But, let's face it: the world is not Noah's Ark. We don't all go about two by two.

And what is it to other people if I accept solitude? I'm not locked away in a convent somewhere. I'm not even exhibiting particularly spinster-like behavior. My social calendar is rather full, in fact.

I'm unclear on why accepting one's single status is so unacceptable. If I don't concede that it's a possibility, I live my life in a constant state of discontent waiting for what will be. And what of putting off things until that time? Should I constantly hit the hold button on living life until there's someone to share it with?

And for the record, it's hard enough to not feel sorry for oneself for not having someone. I don't need someone to tell me that I should be feeling sorry for myself.

So I'm not going to feel sorry for myself. I'm going to take a deep breath every day and remind myself that I am okay all alone. That by myself, I've bought a house and have a great job and am surrounded by truly amazing friends and have a wonderful family. I'm going to be open to what comes, embrace my freedom and remind myself that I am not incomplete. In fact, I'm extraordinary. And until something comes along that is equally extraordinary, I'm going to be happy being in a long-term relationship with one amazing person: me.