“Success is nothing without someone u love to share it with.” — Billy Dee Williams
I really despise Billy Dee Williams for saying this in Mahogany, because he truly put fear in many people’s hearts – fear that’s been since passed on to generation after generation.
Let it be known that while I am often single, this post is not reeking of couple envy. It is however doused in frustration over some people who only seem to want to talk about relationships.
All the damn time.
Their relationships, whatever relationship they feel I should have (sweet, but stop), the relationships of others, and maybe your relationships, too, if you shared so much as a first initial of whoever it is you’re dating.
Why? Well, because no one wants to end up alone, right? Not being married or at least living in sin is like the worst thing ever?
That is according to those creepy Washington Post articles about black women being bound to a life of loneliness. There have also been articles printed across the pond about white women developing “Bridget Jones” disorder. You know, the same sad scenario only in a different color and fancier accent.
And when I’m not dodging questions about my dating life or entertaining diatribes about the dating life of others, I’m seeing posts all across the Web dedicated to everything relationships.
Who wants to get married? Why doesn’t he want to get married? Where can I find a boo? Why don’t I have a man? Will I ever get married? Will they?
Meanwhile, I’m a workaholic who is the product of an embittered marriage. Combined with the fact that I’ve never had a real boyfriend (I’ve dated, had someone I called a fake boyfriend, obsessed over someone I would push you into traffic if it meant I could have him, and been annoyed with others) and you can see how far having a relationship ranks on my list.
If you can’t figure it out, let me help you: It’s way below having a successful career, clearing my debt, having a nice living, and right above having an unlimited Chick-fil-A card.
So you know, the idea of being someone who can I appreciate me is there, but I opt not to obsess over it.
Maybe I’m so used to being alone and not seeing many successful relationships that it’s made my way of thinking out of wack. I’m almost grateful for that after seeing the alternatives.
I was doomed to be jaded considering what I saw growing up, and experience has since made me even more jaded. So much that I’ve told some of my friends that I could see myself being super duper successful but alone.
Oh, does such a statement spook some. The reaction is typically like, “What? You sad little clown. You can’t say that. You just can’t.”
Why? Because it does indeed sound sad, but even sadder is the fear that it could happen to them, too.
Then again, I’ve seen the number children, marriage, and infatuation and obsessions with “ideal standards” sponsored by Hallmark have done to people. Eh is all I can say.
What’s my solution? I don’t obsess over it. Whatever happens will so I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it and I’d rather not that be the main thing I’m always on when I open my mouth.
Apparently, not to everyone.
I’m perplexed (but not surprised) that in the worst economic period in several decades, that there are plenty of people more pressed about not having a date than what a clusterfuck their generation is in.
It would be great if people multi-task in their thinking, but yeah, doesn’t happen often enough. Some are one-dimensional. Some only want to talk about relationships.
Again: All the damn time.
What kills me about it is that none of the talking seems really progressive. When I witness these discussions they all seem like a rehash of cliché’s that makes me feel like I’m recreating Love Jones. With you breeders anyway.
I mean no disrespect if these sort of conversations are your thing, but dear God, I’d rather masturbate on a cactus than lead such a life.
There’s having nice frank conversations every now and then, and then there’s you creeping me the fuck out.
The press has really done a number of some people, huh?
It’s why you so many are capitalizing on this hysteria by becoming relationship gurus despite that naan ring being on their finger. Not that it matters given there are plenty of suckers ready to indulge them because they can’t help it.
Another day, another topic for sure.
Look, I’m not going to pretend that I’m impervious to pain and gleefully smile through my cynical outlook on love.
However, I have my moments and then I move forward. I have so much else to focus on. Like that tramp Sallie Mae who won’t remove herself from my nuts. The same can be said of that tick known as for that Citibank.
Student loan shade aside, tell me you understand what I mean? Lie if you don’t. Call me grouchy if you must. I’ll still want those who can only think about and speak only of their search of “the one” crazy all the same.