So as I have alluded from time to time, before I met the Better Half my love life was rife with foolishness and disappointment. While I was successful enough at meeting guys, I formed lasting relationships with none of them, and far too many of the short ones were inordinately high in drama given the brevity of the affairs.
It was all very silly.
Anyhow, in between the bouts of nonsense I spent a lot of time being single. During these periods I would sometimes bleat and moan and sing plaintive songs from “The Music Man” to myself, and it’s not like I didn’t want to meet the man of my dreams. But I also think the time I spent single was good for me. I learned to enjoy my own company, which is not always something people know how to do.
It was during one such stretch of singleness that I decided to reclaim Valentine’s Day. I’d always hated the ostentatious, forced romance of the occasion, and I was pretty much always boyfriendless when they rolled around anyway. But one year I figured I’d make the most of it.
If I didn’t have a boyfriend to be spending money on, why not friends? I made reservations at one of the nicer restaurants in town (sadly now closed, from what I learn on Google) and invited two of my best girlfriends to dinner. One of them asked if she could bring along one of her roommates (also single, and with whom I was also friendly), and I figured the more the merrier.
The four of us descended on the place and proceeded to have a grand old time. I don’t remember how much wine we polished off, but… we polished off some wine. We made anti-romantic toasts and had a wonderful meal and laughed too loud. We gave each other obscene anatomical nicknames. (I still remember mine.)
We had a blast.
The memory of that evening is among the happiest I have from that time in my life. In the melancholy manner of life, those friendships have waned. But I will always cherish that night I spent with those wonderful women I loved so well, and be glad I didn’t have a boyfriend.
So that’s this week’s Question, backhandedly related to our symposium theme — we fixate so much on meeting the person of our dreams, but when have you been better off without one? When did your solitary state make your life better? As wonderful as romantic love can be, when were you glad to be free of it?