I’ve been a ridiculously happy person for most of my life (I popped out of the womb brandishing jazz hands, all, “Here I am, world! Let’s do this thing!”) but every once in a while, I get mopey, negative and just plain ol’ depressed. Like today.
The Summer of Jolie has been a ton o’ fun: I’ve gone to St. Martin, Montreal, Mexico, New York, San Diego and Vegas. I’ve had plenty of adventures, met amazing new people, expanded my travel writing scope, etc, etc, whatever. But like an obsessive-compulsive unable to focus on the 99 good things because of the 1 teeny, tiny, minor, you-can-barely-see-it flaw, there’s an insistent voice in the back of my mind, whispering, “You’re single, you’re single, you’re single, it’s time, it’s time, it’s time.”
Being single is BORING ME TO TEARS.
When I was racing Ferraris, I thought, “God, wouldn’t this be a cool gift for a boyfriend?” When I was all dolled up and about to hit the town with old friends in New York City, I pouted, “I wish I had somebody to text a photo of myself looking cute right now.” I’ve been having non-stop dinner parties and calling friends to say, “Let me cook for you tonight!”, rather than spend another night in front of the TV with my roasted potatoes and poached salmon (delicious, but still).
I guess I’m just lonely.
Last night, during one of the aforementioned dinner parties for girlfriends I love but don’t see nearly enough, I found out that two of the girls were moving in with their boyfriends soon. This made me incredibly happy for them, but it also made me feel a little jealous and sad: why can’t I find that person?
Oh, you mean, nobody wants to be with somebody who is desperate to be in a relationship and is suddenly dying to have kids and apparently out-of-nowhere can’t be happy by themselves? Really?
One of my good guy friends took me aside this weekend, while I was overanalyzing a dating situation to death, and said, “Look, can I tell you something and not have you get upset?” I said yes, while crossing my fingers behind my back. “You are way too good-looking and smart to be this neurotic. You need to chill out.” Noted.
Dating in LA is the pits. The “good ones” are always looking over their shoulder for something better, hoping to trade up, unwilling to commit, following their dreams, focusing on work (insert other excuses here). The ones who do want to be in a relationship are often lovely but…well, chemistry is chemistry, you know? It’s a two-way-street, needle-in-a-haystack proposition, and there are so many stars that have to align that I’m getting to the point where I’m surprised anybody manages to find love in this shadow town.
Occasional whining notwithstanding, I’m thrilled with my life. I know how incredibly lucky I am to do what I do, go where I go, experience what I experience. It would simply be that much more awesome to have somebody who I find amazing, who finds me amazing, too, to share it with.
Mr. Jolie, where are you?