After writing this, I was reminded of our privilege with a heavy heart.

Effort is the best indicator of interest.

There is a great variety of human relationships and I admittedly have yet to find what really works for me. I just seem to operate best solo. Why do people look at you with pity in their eyes when they hear you're single?

"But you're awesome, why aren't you married?"
"Oh, don't worry - you're a great catch."
"What happened to (insert name of whichever ex here)?"

I usually just laugh or shrug and say I'm not feeling it right now...which often leads to "You'll find someone someday, you're still young" (cue the sympathy pat on the back). Clearly the "I'm not feeling it" bit doesn't penetrate willfully deaf earholes. But cool, not my desire to care.

We’re pressured to be coupled and committed by age 30, otherwise we're apparently viewed as destined for spinster-hood. Which is laughable since rolling the entirety of our identities into a failing ideology seems absurd and, frankly, archaic. I just cannot seem to want to make it work. I don’t necessarily believe I fear commitment like I once did. I think it’s much deeper than that. I'd rather invest time in myself than invest work in a partnership, especially one where the second half of the equation isn't into self improvement. But perhaps I feel that way due to years of pouring myself into relationships to the point of depletion and not receiving what I need in return. But eh, correlation does not imply causation.

Now, I’ve loved many people and I’ve also been in love. I’ve broken hearts and endured heartbreak. But now, the cycle just feels outlived for me. I'm literally tired of love. I mean, who knows how I'll see things in the future, but in this moment, the idea of a relationship makes my stomach drop; it's a visceral repulsion. I've been put through the wringer too many times. There’s no longer the urge to pursue or be pursued. When I'm not being continually hit on or approached, I feel at peace. The more time passes, the more this feeling is reinforced, woven into the layers of my psyche. Why invest in something when you'll just be wronged in the end anyway? Okay, guess I'm jaded. Lovely.

My last relationship sealed the deal for me - something that had the potential for greatness fell short - and watching the end come was like watching a fish out of water, gulping for life-force, dying: slowly, and then all at once.

Is there a name for people like me? It's a personal awakening, perhaps. Life flows onward.

I aspire.

I'm sure you've seen plenty of research stating that longterm relationships positively impact your health. But what about those of us who'd rather not? Don't be stingy, you weirdo monogamy junkies, share the health. In all seriousness though... I’ve never been into dating apps or casual sex, it’s just not my thing. Perhaps this is one of the major lessons of this lifetime for me: to live outside the confines of a conventional relationship. Well, I speak for myself when I say...I feel more me when I'm single. I feel liberated and productive and adventurous and expansive. I learn more, I smile more, I work harder. I'm more social and outgoing. I'm free floating.

I’ve definitely considered the potential of enrichment by sharing my daily life with a partner, but...nah. Many would argue I just haven’t found a compatible connection, and I would argue back. I’ve committed to some great men: kind, hardworking, sentimental, intelligent, ambitious, phenomenal lovers... all who managed to navigate my whirlwind of a mind and temporarily tame my ever-expanding heart. In the end, I guess I'm just not as forgiving as I strive to be. Time heals some wounds, but not all.

Somehow, in some way, love peaks and falls away. We collect the pieces, rebuild, heal, move forward. It’s the natural progression of heartbreak. Some say my standards are too high. Some say I desire a love that doesn't exist. Some say I expect transcendent, life-altering love. And I do. And that’s okay. If it never comes, so be it. I’ve learned to love in many other ways. I’ve learned that imperfect love is just that...love. I want a love that protests my push-back, that screams for resolution. I want a loyal love. I want a love that stays.

Love is love is love. I can love all the darkest parts of you and you can love all the parts of me I’ve shamed or pushed away. In this dance there is a beauty and a sorrow. In this love there is a lesson. I choose liberation. I choose to continually and continuously evolve and ripen. And as an affectionate human who thrives on intimacy and connection, I choose all of that too. Simultaneously. That's the beauty of it. A spectrum of fluidity.

Beneath all this exhaustion, I still love. I do.