Things Single People Tell Themselves

I made dinner three-and-a-half hours ago and I still haven't eaten it. That said, I ate half of it originally and will, soon after finishing this, have to resort to entrusting the microwave to cook it again for me. In the time in between then and now I've had a shower, writhed around in pain and read part of a book. This has led me to come here and talk about my feelings and whatnot; mostly feelings of internal pain that start in the head (as your typical headache), continue down my back (as your typical strains of manual labour) and stomach owwies (because I've barely eaten for days, hence why I could only manage half a chicken pie accompanied with half a Pot Noodle). Not just this, however, as my current emotional state at this time, coupled with one or two articles in Charlie Brooker's The Hell Of It All what I just read, have put on the biggest downer I've known for years. I think it's fair to say that whenever the time comes that I lie on my deathbed, squinting into the bright light emanating from a doorway, haloing a silhouetted figure who's beckoning me to depart this plane, or squinting into the bright lights of a speeding motorist coming towards me (whichever wants to come first) and my brain does that thing of showing me all the stand-out moments of my life gone by, like a "Best Bits" montage of my stay here on Earth accompanied by a remixed version of Lady GaGa's Born This Way, I can imagine looking back on this point of my life as being a bit of a crap one.

Enough of my future death. Let's back up to now, shall we? Earlier today, I read a certain polemic written by Charlie Brooker (whose style of writing I'm absolutely not copying, but merely gaining inspiration and creative freedom from, you morons) some two years ago. In it, he went on about not having a wife, partner or potential love interest at all, and the whole article went something along the lines of "blah blah, go away world, blah blah, love's overrated, everything's complicated with other people involved, wahh wahh, we should all marry robots or something". Obviously I'm paraphrasing but you get the general idea. Being involved in a romantic relationship is stupid and only idiots fall in love, except they're not in love with the other person but instead in love with the idea of being in love with someone or at least the fact that there's somebody else there to share in the misery of their ongoing existence and all those kinda things single people tell themselves to make themselves feel less bitter.

Lately, and for probably more than a year now, I've been able to quell the shrieks of neverending loneliness and such and have been able to get on with the other good things in life such as... erm... well... not really caring much about the fact that I'm lonely, and to be honest, it's actually worked. And yes, it has worked. I know this because around a week ago or something (I'm not too good with exact timings), one of my close friends announced the beginning of a new romantic relationship. It was at that point that two things hit me:

The first is the one that's always hit me whenever a close friend has entered into a romantic relationship, wherein my internal monologue glances to the left and says "Hey. (insert name of whoever's applicable at the time) has a girlfriend. Why don't I have a girlfriend? I should have a girlfriend! Hell, I'm better than (insert name of whoever's applicable at the time). What does (insert name of whoever's applicable at the time) have that I don't?" and so on. Therefore, not only do I judge myself on a 'loser' scale, but also end up comparing myself to someone I'm close to, belittling them in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, which ultimately doesn't work since I'm (a) actively trying to think negatively about people I'm fond of, and (b) when I do start to think badly of them, the fact that they've still managed to enter into a relationship with someone else before me makes me feel even worse than that.

Secondly comes what I like to call "odd-wheel syndrome". Of course, everybody knows the expression of being "third-wheel". For example, I have one friend. Me and friend play happily together. Yay, etc. Friend becomes involved with another, they spend more time together. I am forgotten about, except for the few times I'm remembered, but whenever me and friend play together from now on, friend always invites another. Friend and another spend all time together. I am forgotten about despite being in the same room. This has happened to me a fair few times before in life, so much so that I've been more than just the third wheel, but have stretched to fifth and even seventh wheel at certain times. I pretty much become unnecessary and roll away. I've spoke to this close friend of mine about both of these loneliness reminders falling upon me and even got to the point where I couldn't even muster up the words to say I felt happy for him. Why? Because I didn't. Christ if I can't feel happy for myself at any one time, how can I feel happy for anyone else? The best I could do for him was a mock-celebratory 'woop-woop' and a moderately enthusiastic 'yeah... go you!'

The fact that both of these ideas hit me at once proved to me how little thought I'd given to my desires for romance over the last few years at least and now all those banked, unused thoughts and feelings are coming out in the form of words. Luckily, I feel as though I've managed to harness the power of words into this rambling, shambling format where I just go 'AARRRGGHHH' about stuff then click publish, rather than writing depressing poetry in a darkened room with my hair covering one eye. Mostly that's because poetry's not really my forte and I had a haircut recently, however it is starting to get dark outside.

I have a few friends who are a bit hippie and psychic, which is a demeaning way of saying they're in touch with their spiritual side. They pick up on people's moods based on instinct and intuition, they talk to stones and probably relax by playing Solitaire with a standard Tarot deck. They probably laugh in the face of a magic 8-ball and communicate with spirits on another plane of existence without having to close their eyes, pull a contorted face and shudder violently like they've just done several shots of Wray & Nephew's White Rum... you know, like TV "spiritual mediums" do. Anyway, they assure me that things could soon be on the up with regards to my romantic life, but after being told the same thing for years I seem to have developed cynicism on that front. One, however, did tell me - through the means of instinctively picking up on my soul and analysing my personality traits - that I have so much love inside of me to give to all, and that I agree with. I have much love inside of me for those who deserve it. Mainly myself, a select few friends, one or two family members and Karen Gillan off Doctor Who (all for very different reasons). However, after the horrible re-awakening of my loneliness, I've found it difficult to continue playing The Love Fountain and apparently it's given me backache.

Anyway, I still have stomach pains and half a dinner to re-heat.

As a wee amendment, I'd like to add that 24 hours on from this, I walked into the path of an oncoming car without realising. Seems that mode of death is more likely than letting myself just tick away. And for the record, my iPod, whilst in shuffle mode at the time, apparently decided that Marina And The Diamonds' "I Am Not A Robot" is much more likely to accompany my Best Bits.