I eye my phone as it sits on my bedside table. The blackness of the screen resembles that of an abyss of sorrow and loneliness.
It’s been 24 agonizing seconds since I last got a notification, and I’m freaking out. Thoughts cloud my mind -why isn’t anyone talking to me?
Does everyone hate me? That must be it. Everyone hates me, oh God.
At last, the screen magically glows. In slow motion, with “O Fortuna” thundering in the background, I reach for my phone with deadly precision.
“Ten percent battery remaining” flashes on the screen. So not only does everyone in the entire universe hate me, so does my dwindling battery. Thanks, phone, I appreciate your killing of my self-esteem.
But then, I have a total epiphany.
Much like I crave Big Mac sauce, I constantly crave social interaction.
I’m literally on the edge of my nerves wondering when I’m going to exchange words with someone.
If I’m not in the presence of another human being, I might as well as worthless as Lindsay Lohan’s singing career (although “Bossy” is my jam).
Although I’m clearly no social scientist, my cravings for interaction might result from the fact that I’m terrified of being lonely.
Who will I make “Lizzie McGuire” references to?
Who will I complain about Netflix’s painful buffering speeds to?
The thought of sitting in my room, by myself, for more than three hours gives me the bad kind of chills.
But why does being by myself sound so nightmarish?
In the past, I’ve relied on the theory that you must never be single. I know, I know. Being single, right?
Who doesn’t have a significant other, geez? Losers, am I right? To not be single, you have to settle.
To settle, you must overlook everything about a person that makes you unhappy.
I was unhappy while trying to force myself to be…happy. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?
This constant search for a significant other has taken uncountable hours of refreshing my OKCupid profile.
It’s become stressful filling out About Me’s, asking questions on whether or not I like seafood and admitting on the Favorite Movie’s section that only Tyler Perry movies can make me cry.
Instead of worrying about finding “the one,” (which is one of the dumbest phrases I’ve ever heard) I’m going to learn to be by myself. I won’t search anymore.
I will learn to sit in a room with myself and be happy about it. Last time I checked, I’m a pretty cool guy. I’m good company. I will start by enjoying time alone. Like really enjoying the silence.
I’ll read a book without checking my phone after every sentence.
I’ll watch copious amounts of “That’s So Raven” without worrying if someone will laugh with me.
I’ll drown myself in Polynesian sauce from Chik-Fil-A without someone sitting next to me in the Union.
I will go on a walk on the Drill Field without someone walking next to me.
Basically, I’ll be in relationship with myself and hope I don’t get weird looks when I hold my own hand and tell myself how pretty I am.
There are much worse things than being alone. Take watching “The Big Bang Theory,” for example. Bazi-…no, I just can’t, I’m sorry.