(Spoilers: I did not, and have yet to cancel the subscription.)
I loaded "My List" with a number of different movies and shows from this fancy new package that I wanted to prioritize, and to my credit I watched maybe... three of the movies in the first month? That has to count for something, when you take into consideration that My Brilliant Friend is eight one-hour episodes. I didn't add that many other series - I'm sometimes a bit leery of making that kind of commitment because so often it doesn't pan out. But when Anna Kendrick's face popped up on a poster advertising Love Life, I thought, "Sure, why not? She's aggressively likable, right?"
While I would hesitate to say I'm a rom-com person, I do like rooting for cute or intense or "obviously-meant-to-be" relationships. And as I've noted before, I do appreciate when relationships are portrayed in a way that emphasizes how much work needs to be put into them sometimes, the ups-and-downs. Love Life is... fine. For a person like me - a shy, square, and risk-adverse introvert who has only had two serious relationships, and that is a miracle in and of itself - I certainly can't relate to everything Darby goes through. But there were moments that made me remember the giddy feeling of beginning to love someone, the isolation and loneliness of break-ups, the sheer "how the fuck did I get here" feeling when someone turns out not to be what you thought and threatens to kill themselves when you try to leave.
Yup, that happened.
The episodes that hit me most were the ones that explored Darby's relationship with her mother and best friend. While they were some of the more melancholy entries in the series, I appreciated that they did emphasize the importance of non-romantic relationships and how they can affect our lives, how things can change; they can be healed and they can just as easily be broken.
The whole reason I'm making this entry though is really to document this one thing, this one fragment of such strong emotion I experienced in these "unprecedented time", unrelated to any of the romance mumbo-jumbo. It was Darby going to see Hamilton with an old high school flame at the Richard Rodgers Theatre. Seeing the crush of people lined up to get into the theatre, seeing the merchandising booth and Darby giddy with anticipation, seeing "The Room Where It Happens" packed with excited theatre-goers... it gave me goosebumps. I was there four years ago in that exact location, feeling that same giddiness, surrounded by complete strangers who shared in the anticipation. I almost teared up at the scene, thinking about how it was both an extraordinary but still normal experience, and how returning to that "normalcy" is so far away. It was absolutely a feeling of mourning.
Oof.
Back to the romantic side of things though, the narrator with her soothing British accent announces early on that the average person has seven relationships before they find "the one". Watching this show is making me realize this may never happen for me. I joke that I take it as a sign that COVID-19 hit just as I had re-installed a dating app on my phone and was actively making an effort to try and meet new people, if only because I felt stable and happy and like myself again. But COVID-19 makes that nearly impossible, and I am not going to jeopardize my own health, the health of my co-workers, the health of my friends and family, etc to try and meet "the one". On the one hand, I have never really prioritized romantic relationships and I am not the kind of person to put myself "out there". I have said on many occasions (and truly believe) that I have never been miserable they way I am when a relationship is going south vs when I'm single. I am comfortable with my own company - and that of my cat, of course - though I may find it a little boring. But I am not unhappy.
I don't know if that's enough, but for now it will have to be.
The life of a shy introvert!
I have also been dodging the calls of the guy from the impromptu not-really-blind-date-on-Valentine's because I am bad at being an emotionally mature adult and decent human being. Let it be known that this is my karma when future romantic exploits end in a fiery blaze of destruction. But I have learned that when I am dreading meeting up with someone - mostly because I'd rather be spending my energy elsewhere - that I should probably listen to that gut feeling.
Ugh, I'll have to bring myself to do something about it today.
Ah, Valentine's Day.
I am single and have been for nearly a decade now! I have had two relationships in my lifetime thus far. I am alone but not lonely.
Don't get me wrong, I miss being in a relationship at times, but I also remember during difficult points in my previous relationships thinking how much easier it was to be single. I have never felt the opposite way. Being in a relationship takes work and a willingness to be vulnerable. I am not overflowing with the desire to fulfill either of those requirements. Sure, I have made the odd attempt at online dating/dating apps in the past few years, but I have quit all of them after very short intervals from disinterest and the kind of sheer exhaustion from my job that really makes scrolling through "dating profiles" incredibly unappealing.
My plans for tonight involved showing up at a friend's place with a vegetable dish for dinner and some quality time with his PS4 so I could chip away a little more at Kingdom Hearts III. When he was unfortunately called away due to his friend/girl he's seeing being involved in a car accident (she's fine!), I wasn't too fussed about him having to leave.
But then I remembered he had invited his colleague to dinner.
So the guy shows up about 40 minutes later, and I enter every shy introvert's worst nightmare - making small talk with a stranger. I can't just keep playing the game and ignore him because it would be rude no matter how you look at it. And he was perfectly nice and harmless, which is not always a given. But still, I just wanted warm food and some video game time, not an impromptu blind-date-ish scenario that no one asked for!
Anyway, I survived. And this just goes to show how much better I am at being single and disinterested in prospective romantic entanglements. Sorry, mom!