The One? Nah.

(I think I may be a lifer. I found this sitting in my drafts folder from 2011. The adorable Baby Chicken has since gotten married, so my apologies to the Mrs.)

………………………………………….

Someone asked me recently…

D- What are you looking for?

J- I don’t know? A normal, nice, hot, funny, sexy, smart, sharky…

D- Oh keep going, jeez, is that all?

J- One can hope, ya know. I’m aware most of us settle for two of the seven.

D- Then what. After you meet that guy.

J- Hopefully I like him.

D- and if you do…then what?

J- Date him? I don’t know- what are you getting at?

D- and then you’ll get married?

J- Oh god no! I’ll never ruin a perfectly good relationship with marriage, ever again.

I’ve been to a few weddings this year, and the same feeling always strikes me.

Dread.

Deep in the pit of my chest, dread. I never want that again. I really like my life belonging to myself. I suppose I’m actually dating for fun at this point. Cool.

In getting out of a lengthy situation, I’m gun shy. I’m not really ready to date anybody because I’m still busy whining about someone else.

I need to knit for a while, sew with my daughter for a while… make a few thousand marshmallows… plant a few thousand seeds.

Hearing the grumblings of friends wanting to introduce me to people, even meeting a great guy… My head isn’t in the game. I’m ridiculously hot & cold, and I have a crush on a certain chicken. Not a safe bet if you’re looking for a girlfriend or wife.

I’m a little disgusted with men in general actually, and enjoying hanging out with my guy friends, who only hit on me when they’re really really drunk.

On hiatus really- because the last time I jumped into dating headfirst after a breakup, I ended up with a stalker. I’m entirely too disinterested, and unfortunately everyone is susceptible to wanting something that eludes them. When you play by the same rules as the boys, they don’t know what hit them…

Some of us aren’t interested in finding “The One” and though I love being single, I do like hanging out with someone funny/sexy/sweet as well.

Hence my Baby Chicken habit.

It is, what it is, what it is. Perfect. Great company, no strings, funny & burn the house down. A little too burn the house down at times. It takes 3 days to recover from having Chicken for dinner…but I’m always tempted. I can’t lie, he’s my favorite bad habit.

I’m incredibly unavailable at this point- and I’d be lying if I claimed otherwise.

Single is kind of wonderful. Dating has been extremely unsuccessful and I’d like to refer to having a boyfriend in the same way I refer to the seven years I lost with a bad one. With contempt, because I think it’s been such an epic waste of time up to this point.

I like the idea… I love the idea of endless monogamous love, I just don’t know that I’m delusional enough to believe in it anymore… or even want it for myself.

Variety is the spice of life….

and I’d rather be single… with an occasional Chicken.

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