All My Friends Are In Love and My Hands Are Stained Red From These Pomegranate Seeds

There’s something about people telling me that I will find love when I least expect it that makes me wish humanity never had the ability to speak.

Ok, so that’s a little extreme, but you understand where I’m coming from. In all fairness, there is truth to the statement; there’s a reason why so many people say it. I know because I used to be one of those people. But being constantly told that wanting love decreases your chances of actually finding it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Don’t get me wrong, I adore being single. I’ve learned to love the freedom of it, finding peace in the quiet of everyday life, but a quiet life can also get boring.

I’ve always been the type of person who loves to spend time on my own. On most days, I prefer to do things by myself, but that doesn’t prevent me from seething with jealousy when I see a couple holding hands down the street. In my humble opinion, the notion that once you learn how to enjoy your own company, you won’t desire a romantic partner, is bullshit. I can love to eat at a restaurant by myself and still want to come home to someone at the end of the night. I can love being single but still want to be in a relationship. They aren’t mutually exclusive. It sounds illogical at first: if I like being single, how can I also want a partner? I think it comes from the idea that being in a romantic relationship automatically means you are tied down, restricted by another person. In some cases, yes, this happens to people. They lose a sense of individuality and become codependent. I have been that girlfriend before. But I have also experienced a relationship where I felt so incredibly myself while still loving another person. We grew together as two individuals, not one unit. That’s how love should be.

When you’re one of the only single people in your group of friends or of the people you know, it leaves you feeling lonely. There’s no blame to place, but you also can’t help feeling a little resentful. Not at your friends (well, maybe, depending on how you perceive it). Not at anyone or anything in particular. It also doesn’t mean that I’m not happy for my friends who are in these happy relationships. But with every Valentine’s and anniversary that passes me by, it’s a reminder that hey! I’m single. It’s a reminder that even though I have best friends who I consider my people, they also have someone outside of me who they consider their person. If that makes any sense. The bond I have with my female friends is irreplaceable. My female friendships are so incredibly fulfilling, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. But at the same time, romantic intimacy is also something that can’t be replicated with a friend. I’m not just talking about sex (but definitely that, too), but rather the emotions and effort that go into maintaining a romantic relationship.

The connection you form with a romantic partner fulfills you differently. The emotional intimacy coupled with the physical intimacy you build with someone isn’t something your friends can provide. It’s human nature to crave that closeness with someone. I’m sick of the narrative that you can’t want a relationship if you’re happy being single. Loving someone is part of the beauty of being human and life itself. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to seek it out.

So for now, I’ll peel my own oranges, and I’ll be fine. But I’m still looking forward to the day when my hands aren’t sticky from orange rinds and stained red from the pomegranate I’m feeding myself.