The Mean Reds

I didn't know what the mean reds were until a few weeks ago when I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's. Thanks, Yones. Well, I think I have that today, but I don't have a cure. I wish it was as easy as hopping in a cab with a cup of coffee and a croissant and looking at all the pretty jewelry at Tiffany's. Why is it I get the saddest when I should be the happiest?

I have my life together.

I love my job.

I just bought a home of my own.

I have great family and friends.

But I'm lonely. I've been avoiding saying that for awhile. Guess what? It doesn't feel any better to admit it. In fact, I feel even more miserable. It feels like I've admitted defeat.

God bless my friends - they are forever trying to get me out to meet people but it feels so false to me, going to "singles events". Some of my girlfriends say "join an online dating service! there's no shame in that!" No there isn't any shame in that, but I've done it before and I hated it each time.

I just don't want to place myself into an environment of desperation. Most of my friends have met their SO's not through the web or speed dating or Match.com - it was more happy coincidence. Like at the bar we'd been to thousands of times before. At work. At a museum. At a wedding.

What am I doing wrong? RHETORICAL.

So you know I don't want kids (unless my husband REALLY wants ONE) - but I do want someone to share my happy life with and the older I get, the more scared I become I will be alone for the rest of my life and it makes me extremely sad.

Every man I've loved has broken my heart. That isn't an exaggeration. Every. Single. One.

I still want love in spite of it. God. I'm pathetic. Nevermind.

Don't ask me about this or bring this up with me. I don't want to talk about it. Pretend you never read this. I'm just in a funk.