The Effects of Song on the Single Girl

Dave Matthews, to paraphrase loosely, sings about two people feeding
and quenching eachothers hearts and minds. Now please recall that I'm a
single, somewhat love starved but very happy being a twenty-year old on
my own. These types of lyrics, in unison with powerful instrumental
support, are killing me. The part of me that misses having a boyfriend
is made to feel better by the rest of myself reminding that part of me
that guys suck. And by suck, I mean that they really do suck. Guys are
ruled by one motivating factor (a factor which, incidentally, gives
women the true upper hand in life?which is an entirely separate subject
from the one at hand). Guys are messy, inconsiderate, narcisistic jerks
who care only about satisfying their own agendas and urges. This is the
montra that the single girl must repeat in her innner most thoughts to
rid herself of feeling lonely on Friday nights when all her friends are
out with their respective significant others. And it almost works.
Everytime it comes so close to meeting with success, and then I hear a
lyric like that. And it's all over.


The eternal glimmering optimist comes bursting out of that
little place burried deep down inside of me. She just comes running out
screaming "See! There are decent men out there! There are guys who are
kind, and loving, and care about more than just getting commitment free
sexual satisfaction." It's not this realization that's the problem, not
by a long shot. In fact, this realization should give me hope about the
future of my romantic adventures in that they may not all be doomed to
repeat the failures of the past. And it does give me hope, for the two
seconds that the glimmering optimist in me holds the floor of the open
forum for discussion that is my mind. The real problem with realizing
that there are indeed decent men in this world is the downward spiral
of my thought process that it inevitably leads to. I go from feeling
affirmed that the future holds promise to realizing that the present
does not. I realize that there are decent guys out there, but they're
not with me. And being the inquisitive girl that I am, I wonder why.



Why would decent, intelligent males not be attracted to me?
Why am I home alone instead of off on wonderful dates with wonderful
guys? This is the point that it starts to get ugly. The part of me that
is still an awkward, flat chested twelve-year-old spews all the answers
to all the questions surronding my singledom. I'm fat. I'm not funny,
or interesting, or pretty. I have nothing to offer anyone, let alone a
great guy. The little nutcase twelve-year-old, whom I'd like to
exorcise from my mind permenantly, goes on to remind me that the only
people who love me are my family and that they only do so because they
have to.


This is usually the point that I begin to cry a little and
seek out any kind of chocolate or baked good that I can find hidden
somewhere in my house. I mope around, depressed and in my Pj's, eating
and crying alternatingly for a good portion of the rest of the night.
Now somewhere, buried under all the crap that my mind is churning out
is still the girl who is well adjusted, certainly happy enough being
single and dealing with none of the crap boyfriends have to offer,
life-loving and genuinly happy. It's just that sometimes during
instances like this, she takes a break. She lets all her other emotions
go crazy and send her totally out of alignment. She lets it all get
insane and then, just like that, she's back.


I'll be drapped all over my couch absently watching TV and
I'll laugh at some stupid sitcom, or I'll pet my dog and smile, or I'll
walk by a mirror and catch my own eye, and fix my hair and wipe off my
smudged make-up. And then I take a deep breath, put the chocolate
frosting down and shake my head at myself. It's over. The insanity set
on by something that I no longer even remember is simply gone. The fog
lifts, the lunatics in my head go back to where they belong and I am
myself again.


So why would I share this story, my truest testement to being
human, with anyone? In truth I have no idea what compells me to type
here today. All I know is that life, single or other, is not perfect.
Matters of the heart are the best example I can come up with of the ebb
and flow of life. Somewhere out there is a person who will see me for
all that I am, the good, the bad, the ugly and the nutcase too. Until
then though, I might just start telling myself that Dave Matthews
probably doesn't write his own lyrics anyway. If nothing else, it's a
brave attempt.