INT. BRAD’S VOLKSWAGON PASSAT- NIGHT
BRAD, LENE AND DANIKA ARE ON THERE WAY HOME FROM A LONG DAY OF ADVENTURE.
Danika, I hope you marry a man that likes to go do things that you like to do.
DANIKA DOESN’T ANSWER AND CONTINUES TO STARE AT THE MOON AND LEAVE HER BREATHE ON THE WINDOW
Are you alive or asleep?
Just because I don’t answer doesn’t mean that I am dead.
I wake up with a routine. It isn’t a routine of meditation or of exercise. It is a dismal routine of checking every amount of social media apps that allows me to own a username and password. In the slightest sense, it is my “ball and chain”. It is my addiction. It is also a constant reminder of how very lonely I am as a person… or it makes me believe that.
Facebook is the worst. When I refresh my timeline I see that “blah blah blah” is engaged to “blah blah blah”! Mazel tov another wedding! Or this bitch is in a new relationship with this douchebag… I’ll give it four months and they will be done.
Every Monday and Wednesday morning is a struggle to look at instagram because of #ManCrushMonday and #WomenCrushWednesday. I swear, it seems as if all of theses love birds have a picstich, of their bae, stored in their camera roll. Once 12 am, of Monday or Wednesday strikes they can post it asap, because well they luv them so much. Or excuse me they would say ilysm bb.
Maybe I am being a pessimistic bitch. Maybe I am just jealous. Maybe it is because all of my three ex’s have moved on from my love and are in stable and beautiful relationships. Maybe, just maybe I am deeply and scared to feel love as much my social media friends are in.
This life is meant to be shared. However, I have thought that maybe I don’t need to share it. I could be used as a substitute for others. Maybe I have a sign on my head that screams “I AM YOUR REBOUND”. I could just be someone’s season, a thought or an excitement. I could be a lover for a night or a companion for a month.
Am I really suitable for the deepest profound love that exists in my favorite poetry. Ya know, the kind of words that make my heart sink and and eyes drown in tears. Is that real? Or is it made up? Is the poetry, the films and the fairytales just as deceitful as Facebook and Instagram? Is love just a trend or is it forever?
Can I wake up twenty years from now, go through my bull-shit routine and see the same engaged couple of today, happily married or in a disrepair of a divorce?
Jezz, Who knows? What I do know is… Life’s greatest mystery is what will happen tomorrow and life’s greatest gift is what is placed in front of you today.
So where am I today? It is day three of 2015 and I am single. Sing with me now!
Single all the way.
Oh, what fun it is to ride in a single— fucking— sleigh. HEY!
My greatest mystery is placed behind a dark, wild and beautiful journey. I don’t know what the mystery is but I can’t wait to get it. My greatest gift is that I get to achieve that mystery by myself. I don’t have to hold the hand of someone else as I get scared along the way. I get to hold my own hand, make myself stronger and learn more about how I fit in the world. Most importantly, of how the world fits me.
When the time comes, and I get up in my own holy matrimony ‘n shit, I hope that it is with a man that has gone through a journey of discovery. That both of us have molded the world so that we can collide as one and stay as one, stronger than we were when singular. I hope he likes to hike, swim, read, laugh–laugh a lot, eat– eat a lot and find joy in adventure. When that does happen, I can turn to my father, on the day of my wedding and say,
“Yes, Dad. I married the perfect man that likes to do the same things that I do.”
I hope that my father can smile, hold me, whisper in my ear and say,
“That’s all that I ever wanted for you, sweetie.”