Do you ever think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport?

I think I’ve spent more time wishing for a relationship than actually being in one. That feeling of deep longing and yearning creeps up after 10 pm and crawls into bed with me. Whenever I see couples out on the street holding hands, my fingers suddenly turn into icicles and I reach into my pocket for my own warmth. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life and no one will ever look at me with love in their eyes and tell me that I did a good job at the end of the day. It’s not all the time but it’s there. Sometimes I feel like I’m sitting in a corner pulling at my scalp, rocking back and forth hoping that someone will look at me and tell me that I’m not hard to love.

I want it! I want it so badly! Do you think that I’m scaring it away by wanting it? Can everyone tell that I’m desperate? Have I talked about it and complained about it enough? It’s just a bit at this point. There goes Celena, making another single-joke! Again! The funny part is that on the outside, I pretend that love is cheap and makes you look weak. It’s just not for me. I’m always running away from it because if it ever catches up to me, it’ll rip my heart out from my chest and my knees will buckle from under me. I’m immune to getting my feelings hurt. The person that I like can never know that I like them because it’s weak and embarrassing (it’s not). But it’s just easier to stay cynical and cold because it’s safer being alone. 

I think I love being alone a little too much. I love doing things on my own, I love going to the movies alone, and I love existing without having to entertain anyone. But something nags at me. Maybe I do want someone to see a movie with, and maybe I do want someone to walk me home after a night out. My aloneness tugs on my arm, pulling me away into the dark by myself. I don’t need anyone! But my loneliness asks quietly, “What if you weren’t? Maybe you don’t always have to do things on your own?” I used to get so frustrated at myself for wanting someone so badly because everyone around me already had it or was content with where they were. They had someone to tell good news to, someone to bring them soup on a cold day. And I would go home at night to me. Of course they have someone who loves them. But I’m me. It felt like I was the last one waiting after soccer practice and everyone else had someone drive to pick them up. I was waiting for a bus that didn’t run on a schedule.

I sat with myself for over a year, watching people around me find other people and I was still alone. But, I think that there’s some comfort in being alone and you come to learn that you are actually the best company. You unfortunately cannot force anyone to like you, nor can you force yourself to like anyone. So instead, you just sit with yourself and you learn to appreciate your own silence and presence because this isn’t the worst way to be. You’re not alone, you’re just not settling. You’re not asking for too much, you’re just asking the wrong person. 

 If you told this to me a year ago I might have set my hair on fire but I think I get it now. Listen, I’ve been disappointed, time and time again. I swear that it’s not for me, I swear that I will never get on dating apps again, I swear that I will protect my peace. Love is not real! Chivalry is dead! What the fuck is a talking stage? But yet, I keep a locket of hope close to my heart just in case. I am so exhausted from trying to prove that love is real so why do I keep looking for it? 

Because I see it everywhere, whether I like it or not. Romantic love is not the end all be all. But maybe it’s when I see a father on the street carrying his daughter’s glittery backpack and doing a silly voice for her. Someone’s pet dog tugs on its leash and scurries under my hand for a pet. It’s when my friends come to my dumb sketch comedy shows and they read the silly articles I write. My friend’s friend tells me that she reads every single piece that I write even though we don’t talk much. My sister bought me a replacement stuffed animal that I lost over 16 years ago. My friends pop by at work because we all work the same job anyway. My dad picks out every single piece of celery from a salad for me because I think it’s “hard to chew.” My mom buys herself a sweater but lets me wear it because I like it. A guy at work asks me what book I’m reading and he tells me that he studied Art History and we talk about 19th century landscape painting. He still recognises me to this day. The girl I became friends with in the 6th grade lives in another country and we still write letters to each other. An old lady stops me on the subway and tells me that she likes my outfit. I see my friend once a year and she has held onto a birthday gift from over a year ago. Even the couple making out in front of me on the subway! It’s there! It’s alive and well and right in front of me! There actually is, love, all around. I see it and maybe that’s it. 

The ability to see love is something beautiful in itself. I’m not saying that it’s a replacement for love, or that you’re suddenly gonna find love because this is the next step. You’re still allowed to want it. None of that “you’ll find it when you least expect it” bullshit. But how lovely is it that you can still see love, all around? Love is real because you and I are real. What was that thing Hugh Grant said? “If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love, actually is all around.”