It is universally acknowledged that an average person will have its heart broken many times throughout its life. Most of these heartbreaks will happen, of course, when that person is young. But at some point, like in every romantic movie, you'll find your true love, your other half, your special one. Or perhaps a three month boyfriend that dumps you for a friend, but at least it's something.
As for me, I'm still waiting for my movie ending to begin. All I've had in my life is heartbreaks: been left for a friend -- can you say they left you when they weren't with you on the first place? -- been told I wasn't good enough and was asked for help to ask my sister out (twice), given great birthday presents to guys that did definitely not want to date me, thrown birthday parties for said guys. I've attended gaming conventions and nerd gatherings, I've changed the things I like and the way I dress.
Yet, every time it's the same old story: I fall in love, think something great will happen, and then it just doesn't.
My first date with a guy I liked was five years ago. I went to the cinema with someone I'd been in love with for almost two years. I paid for the tickets, he fell asleep in the middle of the movie (on purpose, he told me afterwards, because he had to attend a party later).
And now I'm 18, but when it comes to love, I have the experience of a toddler. In social situations, when asked about these matters, I laugh awkwardly and act mysteriously, trying to make people think I hide some kind of extravagant love stories, like a boyfriend in Japan or a 33 year old lover. I have no way of knowing if they are buying it or not, but I suspect they aren't.
When I meet a new guy, I can already tell how the fling is going to end. I will get excited, plan a future wedding, and just when I start to believe this time it's happening and I won't end up crying in a public restroom, he'll introduce me to his new girlfriend.
To tell the truth, at first, a long time ago, being the 14 year old spinster who has never been kissed and wasn't loved by anyone was kind of funny. I used to think I was going to die alone, surrounded by empty pomegranate juice bottles -- cats are so overrated -- but I also thought "I'm going to make a great HBO show out of this someday". Somehow, it just isn't funny anymore: I have ran out of good jokes to make about my loneliness and my relatives have started to worry about my lack of dates, so much so that I'm constantly being asked about it.
And the worst part of this is, as much as it hurts, there's nothing I can do about it. All my friends who are in relationships say love comes when you least expect it, you shouldn't be looking for it. But of course I'm expecting it, I'm looking up on Facebook every new interesting guy that I meet to see if they like bread as much as I do and getting excited when finding out that my mother's friends have sons of my age. Don't get me wrong, I'm not desperate, I won't gladly accept every guy who knocks my door; I just want, for once, to like a guy that likes me back.
In the meantime, I do things to cope with the lack of love life. I have become a shopaholic and collect useless things like different kinds of wine glasses or pens. It still hasn't gone too far, but online shopping for new shoes at three am because the guy I liked didn't reply to my message has definitely happened.
I cannot watch romantic movies or series because even the unluckiest characters get the guy in the end: my dearest Bridget Jones has two fascinating guys after her, gets married. All of those movies featuring Katherine Heigl as the successful lady who still hasn't found love have endings where she finds guys like Gerald Butler and Ashton Kutcher. I'm not saying I want all movies to end depressingly in a Titanic manner, I'm just having a tough time relating to the happy endings.
Don't even get me started on dates such as Valentine's Day. It's the only day of the year when I expect those miracles that can only be seen on TV to happen: text messages confessing love, flowers at my front door, guys who rejected me asking for my forgiveness in tears. As it always happens, all I'm left with is some gift from my mom and cheerful advice from my friends, who tell me next year will be my year.
I always try to write optimistic conclusions at the end of my writings, try to show the bright side of a situation that to me, isn't so nice. This time, I'm having a hard time finding it. Perhaps it's great to be single because I get to have time for myself and don't have to share my food. Perhaps it's just not. Perhaps I'm too young and will find love later on in life. Anyway, the heartbreaks need to end. I've already had too much chocolate and spent too much on therapists.