Another 14th of February passed by; another reason to celebrate, another reason that hoteliers tap to sap, another reason that Archie’s and Hallmark exist, another reason to paint the town in crimson and pink and every shade of red, another reason for Koala inspired bears, clutching onto scarlet hearts, to mushroom uncontained, and, sardonically, another reason that the anti-Valentine fanatic association, supposedly upholding and protecting our ancient culture eclipsed by westernization, come to the forefront with clubs and sticks and ruthlessly demand of any man and a woman seen together the reason they were seen together! Traffic snarls, men and women dressed in red, claiming how true and pure their love is, roses and chocolates, surprises and proposals, yet another Valentine’s Day. While answering curious bystanders about my still single status and a silent witness to the madness, that I am, the cacophony around me, I have been, aboard the bus, over lunch, rushing to and from work, gathering reasons for why I must always remain single. No, it isn’t the tale of relinquished soul, one that shall never find love, nor is it a tale of grapes being sour. May be an epiphany! And here I have nine reasons why I must remain single.
1. I am difficult to live with. Yes, I am an extremely, terribly, blatantly difficult person to live with. I am obsessed and possessed with order, with neatness, with salt and sugar containers in perfect alignment and at designated corners, of books arranged alphabetically, by genre, by size, anything that catches my fancy! Obsessive compulsive disorder, may be! Yes I am quite the Monica when it comes to order and perfection. No I am not bossy but I shall be very annoyed if you mess with my order and arrangement. And it gives me nightmares when I imagine compromising on the arrangement I have fanatically designed.
2. I love my solitude over anything else. Nothing can be more rejuvenating than conversations with my own self, nothing can be sweeter than a cuppa alone, nothing can be pleasanter than a quiet rainy afternoon alone at home, nothing can be better than long solitary walks, wherein I get to ponder, to reflect, to think, to debate, to imagine. I do not shun company and neither am I labelling what you call loneliness solitude. I am extremely particular about my own little space and that necessitates absolute lone time. Yes, conversations with a soul that understands conversations over a cuppa on a quiet Sunday musty evening sounds charming but over time I have come to realize it does not exist.
3. My idea of love is archaic. Love that I know, that I think I know, that I wish were so, is confabulated by all that I have read, of those emotions and feelings entrapped by Jane Austen in her books, that La La Land depicts, that in essence does not exist. Unconditional love, which a friend argues, is phantasmagorical, is what I think love should be. May be in an alternate world these notions can possibly be true. But in this world, no.
4. Once bitten and twice shy. I have had my share of falling in love, falling out of love, of my heart soaring high in a sky of sheer bliss to crash into the deepest trenches of an ocean of numbing melancholy. I did make the ‘Same Mistake’ again, one never learns does one, my broken heart pitifully crumbled into dust and now I shall never trust, love, believe; I do not have the will or strength to gather the broken and scattered pieces of my heart and to dream of a beautiful forever.
5. I am terrified of parenting. Truth be told I would make a terrible parent were I to indulge myself in an utterly nonsensical imagination of being one someday. It terrifies me. I feel like a child myself and to look after a child, to watch her grow, to inculcate in her all that one must, to protect her, to nurture her, to be responsible for her well-being is quite out of my grasp. I would be devastatingly poor at it.
6. The norms of companionship, the do’s and don’ts suffocate me. Self explanatory, ain’t it? Stems from my idea of solitude.
7. I take pride in my weirdness. I am weird! I suffer from extremes of mood upheavals. I have weird notions about life, I cut off people by building impenetrable walls around me, I am afraid of being vulnerable, I want to run off to an isolated town far away from everyone and everything some day, escapade, I reckon I would be a happier man in the 18th century, I want my life to be subtle, no hullabaloo, like the incessant lapping of gentle waves on sandy beaches, I don’t want to live long, I overthink, I overanalyse, I am a nutcase.
8. I want to live by my own rules. Call me selfish, call it self-centred, call it all that you may but I want to live by my own rules. I am fiercely independent and I am happier that way. And I am a cat person, doesn’t that explain much!
9. I just want to be single. Period.
Image Source: http://www.vivaboo.com/when-the-snow-has-gone