Last year I found a really great image on Twitter (where all true greatness is found) and I felt the need to tweet it myself, because as the loner I am, I find most of my commonalities with strangers on the Internet.
So I tweeted it. (I know, this story is riveting! )
Single bells, single bells, single all the way… pic.twitter.com/XEKJOnJCd4
— alyssa ruane (@alyssaruane) December 18, 2014
The image says, “Christmas is so close I can almost smell the mistletoe I’m not going to be kissed under.”
With five “favorites” racked up on the tweet, I realized people like me a lot more when I’m single. Now, before you say anything, I know what you’re thinking:
1. Five favorites is not a lot. Well, it’s a lot for me. Just because I have esss-sssuper fuego tweets (please read this in a Miami accent) and nobody appreciates my advanced humor, does not mean that you are better than me because you have more followers and get more favorites.
2. I know that “favorites” have recently followed suit to fit in with all the other social media channels and are now “likes.” I do not support this change.
3. I realize that I am always single. I realize that it’s not really worth comparing single Alyssa to relationship Alyssa, because relationship Alyssa hardly exists. There’s no amount “more” to be liked. That’s the joke, but I guess you guys just don’t get my esss-sssuper advanced humor.
So back to what I was saying. People like me when I’m single, which means people like me all the time. Which is great. But it is also not great, especially during the holidays.
Let me explain in anecdotal form.
Once upon a time…
There was a beautiful girl named Alyssa. She was the envy of all her peers. She was smart, funny, athletic and – as you know – beautiful. Her family loved her, and lots of boys should have loved her too, but they were probably just too intimidated by her perfection. Alyssa was also a very humble girl. She hated compliments, but would flash her shining white smile politely every time someone would gush about her impossibly good looks: “Oh, stop,” she’d charmingly squint, “I’m not that beautiful.”
From an outsider’s perspective, Alyssa had it all.
But when the holidays rolled around, it always became apparent that Alyssa wasn’t engaged. Sure, she didn’t have a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get engaged. As we all know, Facebook is the official engagement generator, and Alyssa’s had Facebook since 2007 – so she was definitely eligible for engagement.
All of her family and friends wondered, why isn’t Alyssa engaged? She’s uploaded thousands of pictures on Facebook and none of them are engagement photos. But then – there! Finally! A man shows up in her photos amidst a sea full of girls who all look the same. Because they are all selfies. All the photos are just Alyssa. Who is this man? Is he her suitor?
Alyssa heads home to her parents’ house for Thanksgiving. As we all know, Thanksgiving is the official holiday for bringing home a significant other and letting them get drunk with your parents. Alyssa shows up solo year after year. Her family asks, “Who is this man in your Facebook photos? Is he your suitor?” Because in an alternate world, we all still use the word “suitor,” because we like to pretend there is such thing as romance.
But alas, romance and chivalry and meeting in person are all dead. None of these aspects of relationshipping exist anymore, and Alyssa has to explain to her Nona that boys only like to talk to you if they can swipe your face on a phone screen. And then Alyssa has to explain that swiping a face is not a term for anything sexual.
As the questions of singledom flood Alyssa’s ears, which are located beneath her beautiful blonde curls, Alyssa chooses the only answer to any problem. She heads to the liquor bar and makes herself a steep drink, just in case she wants to text an ex and totally not regret it.
As we all know, the holiday season is the official time of year to text your exes, “Happy _______! Tell the family I said hi,” and then carry on a weird conversation that might escalate to including “Miss you,” depending on how drunk each of you are. It is all very endearing but carries no weight. It is simply a formality, because if you don’t spread the love during the holiday season, you are just a bitter old ex-girlfriend who doesn’t appreciate meaningful past relationships. It also implies you hate their current girlfriends and don’t want to tell their families ‘hi,’ which we all know is never true.
Alyssa texts three exes the same thing, even when their families don’t know her, because she was never around long enough to meet them. “Tell the family I said hi,” she SMS’s and iMessages, and she now has a decent flow of past suitors to text throughout Thanksgiving dinner.
She continues sipping her steep drink and makes two more just for backup. Smiling at her phone, “LOL, haha, *turkey leg emoji,*” her facial expressions say everything. Her family wonders, who is she texting? She must have so many suitors! “Is it the male specimen in your Facebook photo from last Thursday, posted at 12:32am?” Her mother asks.
Alyssa scoffs and says, “Oh, him?” And never finishes the conversation because she figures if she waits long enough everyone will forget and move on to a hot topic like the weather lately.
“If only everyone didn’t like me so much when I’m single,” she says to herself, “then maybe I would get engaged. But I could never do that to my fans.”
I know you might be thinking that I explained nothing in that anecdote. Maybe I did explain nothing. Maybe I didn’t. That is the beauty of the written word: I have no obligation to provide you any answers.
…To Be Continued?
I haven’t decided yet.
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