breakup drama

Last weekend I had an extended lunch with a friend of mine who had recently broken up with her very long-term boyfriend. She is my age and had been planning the future based on the relationship and was devastated by the fact that she, again, after years of coupled-life found herself from the world of singletons.

There are times that accommodate single life well. Student life. Summer. And there are times that are extremely unfriendly towards unitary living. Winter. New job. Coming home from yet another day in the office or at the work place where you have put all your energy into learning, understanding and looking enthusiastic is not the point at which you want to go out and meet new people and socialise. No. You need someone who wants to listen to your thoughts or go for a walk or alternatively you just feel like curling under a duvet with a good book. But the problem there is that the more nights you spend with your book the more nights there are when you don’t go out and meet new people and the more the days move towards winter and the colder it gets and the more you need to spend money on your electricity bill and the less you have left over for social activities – it is a catch22 really.

But what is the alternative? A bar? A sports club? A date? Another first date spent talking about yourself, your hobbies, the things you like, the things you don’t like and wondering whether this person is even remotely interested in you or whether you can be bothered to leave that book for him another time. And usually you don’t. And you try again. Or hope that someone will notice you and ask you out so that you can try again.

I tried to convince my friend with the positives of single-life. Freedom. Independence.

“So I can freely choose where I want to go travelling alone and which film I want to go and see alone and in which group I am the third wheel or the outnumbered fifth person?”

Yes. That’s it.

I wasn’t doing a too good of a job.

“Besides, guys who are still single at our age – there must be something wrong with them. Surely. All the good ones are taken already.”

I know.

And the girls at our age?

After a number of hours, several coffees and apple crumble with ice cream we asked for the bill and left the restaurant. We decided to stop at he famous Notting hill travel bookstore (Yes the one in the movie. And yes it is lame. But it is a fantastic store.). Maybe there, amidst the beautiful photos of warm places we would meet the last lonely (or two of them ideally) singleton traveller who would be willing to keep us warm over the fast approaching festive season.

We didn’t.

So we left. Said good-bye and started pedalling to our respective directions. To spend another Saturday night. At home. With a book. Under a duvet.