Have I ever explained why I continuously insist on needing new friends?
Well, I have 7 friends. Four are exes and three, at some stage, liked me.
Have I ever explained why I’m single?
I don’t think I have to.
Those folk are the people I surround myself with every day. Collectively, I call them frexes, because they are, actually, a collective.
My exes are best friends – an actual group of friends who study together, get drunk, hang out, share cigarettes and talk about women.
I spaced them out over four years and they STILL found each other.
There is no escaping.
My social life is like The Bachelorette. I often wonder if there are cameras cleverly hidden behind trees and in dark corners, live-streaming to some dingy website where my straight fans are vouching for the best-looking guy and the lesbigay community watches in excitement every time I meet the ex-ladyfriend.
I feel you, Truman.
Though it’d make for great reading, it isn’t actually a situation where I’m sitting in the centre of a square with three eager onlookers. Sure, there’s the rare drama, but they all have their own love lives and their own exes with their own little drama shapes.
They’re all individually stellar people with whom I’ve made wonderful memories.
Who better to surround yourself by than people who genuinely know and care about you?
The friendship is well worthwhile.
I know. I, too, wanted this to be a piece about some steamy octagon where everybody wants the irresistible Lola and they’re all fighting tooth and nail for her poisonous affections.
I’ll write a book about that instead, much like Game of Thrones, where you get to fall in love with each character and then watch them get stabbed repeatedly or decapitated.
We ❤ the Starks.
See, each of the frexes brings with them retrospect. They’ve each shown me the importance or superficiality of some attribute or the other.
I, too, no doubt, have performed this function, considering how many of them have dumped me.
Dauntingly, my 22nd birthday approaches, and I’ve spent much time thinking about where I’m going with this slippery life. Until recently, academic and economic goals were the only ones I considered.
What about marriage, kid(s), and building a life after independence? This is dictated by society to be the natural succession of events.
I am okay with this one, Society, but I’m still mad about Apartheid.
So, I’ve been thinking about the kind of person I see myself with in 10 gloriously distant years.
It is naïve to say that looks don’t matter. They do, but you might not share the same idea of beauty as I do.
Mila Kunis? She scares me. I would maybe probably definitely shoot her through the bathroom door if I knew she was lurking in there at midnight.
They say it’s okay to make Pistorius jokes now, apparently.
They also say you’ve met the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with when you’re 21.
I have one month to meet Prince(ss) Charming.
Trying to list a set of attributes that Charming needs to tick off is easy.
Only, it’s easier to picture the kind of life I hope to have as opposed to the person I want to spend that life with.
I want to be able to wake up in the morning and not feel obligated to be with the person I’ve stolen the blanket from and almost kicked off the bed. I want happiness to be a radiant undertone, not anxiety or complacency. I want each day to be a new start, not a chore.
Bear with me. I want many things.
I also want to collaborate, not compromise. This comes from respect, maturity and a desire to consider the values and motives of each other. I want discussion, not argument. I want equality, not dominance.
I want to be able to appreciate Charming and all their charming attributes. I want to still find their jokes funny years later, and not have the urge to stab them in the face for being exactly who I knew they were. I want Charming to accept my flaws and help me grow individually, but not try to change me. This way, we will also grow together.
I want the life we build to be one we both steer, and I want us to want to steer it, not coast along because it’s the next logical step.
I want us to be silly yet serious, and attracted to each other.
I want to be happy to be with Charming for who they are, not tolerating them because I’m obligated to.
I want us to be on the same page, co-writing the next.
I will not compromise, because like all fairy tales, I want my truly happy ending.
I don’t know who you are or where you’re from.
But, I will find you.
And I will put a ring on it.
If I like it.