Wednesday, 14 February 2018

Alone on Valentine’s Day

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It’s a day for chocolates and roses, cards and gifts. Or for those of us who are Minimalists at least a romantic day set up beforehand to make more time and give more attention to our better half - a reminder really - of something we should strive for daily anyway.

All the above however count only for the couples, and not me for the first time since 1999. So this is going to be one dedicated to singletons rather.

I used to be a smug married, as Bridget Jones would say. Jokes apart, I have to admit, I really was! Somehow, for good or bad, being married meant having another half with whom to share it all. Now I am on the other side of the table and the phrase that comes to mind is from The Wedding Singer (1998) where Adam Sandler’s character, newly dumped at the altar, sings ‘Love Stinks’. Oh how it does!

When it goes wrong, it stinks worse than cigarettes and onion breath rolled into one and dumped on a Maltese bus seat amid the sweat and stink of socks. Because it leaves you all alone, regretting or craving it, maybe even both all at once.

Yes I am single but I am here writing on behalf of all those going through the five stages of grief following a breakup (or even two!)

All the happy photos of couples that I scroll through on my Facebook make me want to make a mental note to avoid mindlessly hitting the app icon for the day. Probably even Google will have to be avoided if their illustrator comes up with something soppy enough for the main page of the search engine.

Bitter? I ain’t, not really. I am trying hard to get comfortable in my own skin after almost two decades of sharing it with someone and wearing their own skin on mine. I am also trying to be objective about the most irrationally subjective topic in life:

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LOVE. Is it only a four-letter word? Or is there more to it? As they say in my language, the dog that’s already been scalded will think all water is boiling hot. Or a more apt way to put it would be to use the English equivalent of ‘Once bitten, twice shy’.


Will I find love again? After all, what is love really at the end of it? Some think of it as companionship, stability, trust. I am more passionate than that and I mean this character-wise, for passion is not always about sex. I need something more than to just settle. I need to look into someone’s eyes and ‘know’ it will work, or at least can work, if we both want it to.

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