Vicariously Living

I’m a single woman. I love romantic comedies, or “rom coms.” But sometimes I wonder if I watch them just to laugh, cry, and wallow in my own self-pity. Especially when I’m in one of the most lively and wonderful cities in the world, and I CHOSE to come home and watch rom-coms. I also feel that watching rom-coms on your own is kind of pathetic. You get so much more joy and hilarity, so much more emotions, even, when you watch them with some one else. So at the current moment, I’m not sure what I think is more pathetic (in my own contorted opinion): Living in London, and spending almost every night on Netflix, or watching a whole bunch of movies about romance, on my own, because I’m living vicariously through fictional characters.

I think I need help.

But why? Why do I need help? I honestly enjoy being single. It’s such a free feeling, and I’m happy. And I know what most couple-y people are thinking: “Oh, Mary Jane, you’re not REALLY happy. You’re just filling up the time until your special some one comes along. Then you’ll know true happiness.”

But really, I am happy. I’m in a position where absolutely nothing is tying me down to one place. I’m free to experience the world, such as London, or Barcelona (in the upcoming month). There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being single, independent, and strong. I’ve felt more sure about myself in the past few weeks than I have in a really long time. Plus, I can flirt with whomever I want, and not feel guilty.

But then again..I could be in denial. Why else would I cry during movies? Why else would I continue to watch movie after movie about fictional relationships? To feel the fictional sensation of falling in love again and again? Maybe I’m pretending to be strong, when really I want something more.

Mary Jane, why don’t you try and make something of yourself? Take risks, follow your heart, all that cliche crap that you know so well? Be your own romantic comedy! Well, that’s an interesting question. I would LOVE to make those kind of risks. I want to be daring, do something that I wouldn’t normally do. Maybe even something secretive. I like secrets. I want to be some one I would never expect of myself, but I’m afraid.

Of what?

Everything. Ruining friendships, jeopardizing jobs/responsibilities, humiliating myself, failures, rejection, you know, the usual.

But Mary Jane, you’ll never know if you don’t try? Trust me, voice in my head that I’m talking to, it’s better not to. Besides, I’m honestly tired of doing all the work. Some one else, please take the wheel.

As far as London goes…It’s magnificent. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the environment or the people. There is so much going on. I never want to leave.

I’m going to get back to my romance movies now….

…Some one please drag me to the city.

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