It’s not that I mind being single. It’s the stunning frequency with which my singleness is blatantly pointed out. Or worse, that my friendships are assumed to be something more, even when I’m clear they’re not.
Tonight I went with Matt and Rachael, the woman he is living with(!) to dinner with friends of Matt’s. I adore Don and Alison. They’re smart, funny, attractive, sensible, and my age. She’s from the south and is Jewish. He’s funny and sweet and kind. Tonight was their first time meeting Rachael, who is notoriously absent from our various outings due to many reasons.
The server took our order and it was “we are on one check and we are on another check” and then there’s me, on a check alone.
Rachael ended up having to leave early, so Don and Alison gave Matt and me a ride home after dinner and drinks. We were sort of cozily squished in the back seat and Alison kept making jokes and sly innuendo about why the windows were so fogged up. It was all in good fun and we played along gamely, but inside I felt miserable and who knows if Matt felt uncomfortable… see above serious, live in girlfriend.
I guess I need to adjust my perception of my status of I don’t want to stay inside alone forevermore.
There were good things to this evening, like the conversation, which is always smart and funny. Alison invited me to her running group, which makes two people now offering me a tool for help with a stated goal. And very good food.
I’ve stayed up tonight watching Hook, which is one of my favorite movies of all time.