I'm always told "there's someone out there for ya, buddy". But, I, in my cynical glory, write it off as some stupid sh** that they got from the slip of paper in a fortune cookie or those horoscope scrolls. I never saw evidence that any of this is true. To me, the sincerity was absent, like they were only telling me this to shut me up. So there's someone out there for me, eh? Prove it. I want tangible evidence, something I can analyze. If not, then, why are you even saying these things to me? I don't believe you, so why bother? I'm, honestly, coming to the conclusion that, maybe, I'm supposed to be single for the rest of my life. Sad, but rewarding. Freedom to do what I want without having to ask if it's okay to do it, and without the empty threats that she'd leave me if I did whatever activity, that's unrelated to her, I pleased. I'm not your pet. If you want one so bad, cat or dog? Not some poor Aspie you take for a schmuck. Sorry, I had to let that out, I feel better, now. But, I have to admit, the one trade off to being perpetually single is never feeling the flow of dopamine and oxytocin coursing through my veins. In other words, love would be like an estranged child, after a while. Oh well...
Most Helpful Girl
Meh. That's a bunch of bull. Having someone for everyone would mean that the ratio of men to women should be 1:1... But I really doubt that to be true. I don't care what the census (or Wikipedia, if you must) say, I'm pretty sure there are a few dudes or chicks hiding out there in the jungles of some God-forsaken island that the urban man has not tread upon, totally fucking up the consensualized statistics as we know it.
I guess it all comes down to how you mold yourself; what kind of person you are. An ass will always attract an ass, as is the case with my boyfriend and I. I guess we don't need perfect. We need figurative physical and emotional (not to mention, sexual) chemistry. Someone we can be completely and utterly ourselves with. Someone we can fuck and then spend the next few hours pillow-talking, not awkwardly dressing up and wondering what to do next. Someone we can talk to about the intellectual shit human-kind expects us to talk about, but simultaneously be able to get your derp on with. Someone who won't give a fuck if your nose is dripping with slimy green and yellow substance, instead would say "Cuddle time is cuddle time".
Basically, we choose our own someone by choosing to be who we are. We could be anyone we wanna be. And when I say that, I mean we could choose to be different kinds of people- nice, sassy, assholic, dogmatic, amiable etc. So having someone for everyone would be like saying that the word possibility doesn't exist, that we are robots who are SUPPOSED to be who we are.
Think deep, bitches.1