Toes over the edge.

I am on the cusp of something awesome.

It’s something Gizzy and I talk about a lot lately—we are both happy being single. And that hasn’t happened for either of us in a very, very long time.

To be honest, the last time I enjoyed my singleness was…let’s see…seven years ago before I ever fell in love.

But now, I have this unbelievable feeling of freedom, unlike any other. I’m happy to say I’m single, even happier to tell exes and previous hookups that I’m done, and ecstatic not to care if I get asked out or not.

And so, it seems like I’ve got it under control.

But there are still a few wrenches in the system.

Last week, I was sitting at my desk when I got a standard text from my ex saying he loved me.

I say standard, because we go weeks without saying a word to each other, and months without visiting. After bouts of silence, he comes back and attempts something sweet, which just pisses me off more than anything else.

As a recent habit, I immediately deleted the text.

And then, tears were streaming down my face.

I don’t know what really happened there—I think I was just upset to the point of tears. I hate when people throw around the L word like he does, because he obviously doesn’t love me, and I would go so far as to say he never did.

So to use that word as a way and attempt to wriggle his way back in just irks me.

And so, these thoughts came pouring in my mind. In the last few months, men of my past have surfaced, wanting me to come over and fuck.

And it makes me sad that I used to appease that type of behavior. That I settled for it.

I thought of the guy in Texas. What a weird visit that was—and how different I felt about him then vs. now.

Within five minutes my tears were cleared up and I was good to go. However, Saturday morning, I received a phone call…a semi wrench.

My great friend, and sorority sister, called to announce her engagement and asked me to be in her wedding.

Now, I love Jenna, and her fiance is a sweet guy—great on paper, and generally nice, from the few times I’ve met him.

But they have had an on-off relationship, and have done plenty of couples counseling—and hey, I’m not knocking that. If I could get a guy to go to counseling with me, we might have a winner.

It’s just I always want the best for my friends…

Okay, truth is, Jenna was my LAST single friend aside from Gizzy.

Call me crazy, but yes, I am scared of being that girl. The one people feel sorry for because I haven’t found a man therefor I must not be happy. I am terrified of my married friends ditching me because they all think I am a single slut.

But in reality, I do probably the same stuff married people do. I cook, I clean, and I never get laid.

Instead, I get really fucking pumped over a shower curtain that I ordered from Etsy—I designed it myself for my new apartment and it’s 9 ft tall! Who is excited for the blog tour of my new place? In less that two weeks, I will be there!

Get your party pants on, folks.

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3 thoughts on “Toes over the edge.

  1. Hi Ladies. I’ve really been enjoying your blog. It makes me laugh and feels very real. As such, I am awarding you the “Versatile Blogger Award.” Be very proud. You can go here http://myonepreciouslife.wordpress.com/2011/09/27/tickled-pink/#more-2363 to claim it.

  2. Wowza! Thank you!! I will include the details in my next blog.

    -L

  3. justmarriedgirl says:

    I don’t know about other people, but I definitely don’t just assume that my single friends are sad and lonely unless they make comments that lead me to believe that single life has got them down. In fact, I assume they are out having a fabulous time, and I can’t wait for the details!

    It’s normal to feel complicated about exes. After all, you invested a lot of time in them, only to be disappointed. Let yourself cry a little if that’s what you feel like doing. And then, keep enjoying yourself! You deserve it!

    I came across this by accident. It might make you feel better (or terribly depressed):

    http://www.huffingtonpost.com/iris-krasnow/the-fine-line-between-mar_b_959372.html

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