Single.

I've been lying awake (don't ask, my mind is still on North Carolina time... more about that trip, soon... maybe... uhh, one day?) for the past half an hour, contemplating this word. Single. It's a very huge and heavy word. Like I've mentioned previously on this blog before, I don't intend for this to become a girly, gossip-filled, he-said she-said advice column by writing this, but rather I hope to just pause and reflect for a while. Because, like, I've not done any pausing-and-reflecting on this blog before (see - well, uh - see a lot of my previous posts? I'm a fun person too, I swear!)... obviously.

(Can you tell I'm nervous writing this? Am I that transparent? Or did I just give myself away?)

For possibly the first time in a very long time, I have really started to embrace this word - single. I feel, though, that there are often different (no, not fifty...) shades of single. There is the single-but-still-emotionally-attached single, where you're single on paper (or, as is the social convenience nowadays, on Facebook) but you're not really over someone, you're still sitting and mulling over some things that were meant to be exorcised a long time ago, perhaps still wishing for a glimpse of those same rays of sunshine again. Then there is the single-but-you're-sleeping-with-someone single. This is surely a fun kind of single - no attachments, companionship (hell, maybe even the sacred F-word... friendship, you fools!), and a happy thought that there is still at least one person in the world left who thinks you are still attractive. Following on from this one is the single-but-interested-in-someone single - you're not bound to anyone, but there is a potential. He (or she) makes you grin, so you're going along with it. Testing waters but still free as a bird.

Finally, there is the very right-wing version of single. The shade that I have come to realise in the past couple of days, and especially the past half an hour, I have been wearing with me everywhere. The well-and-truly-single-in-the-most-dull-boring-and-true-sense-of-the-word single. The kind where you are single because there is no one you like, no one who likes you (in case you were looking for a bit of an ego-boost - well, 'hahahahahaha' is all that can be said...!), no one who is potentially going to make you grin (or even attempt a weak half-smile for), and there is literally not one spark of excitement in your life. This, folks, is the single single I am experiencing.

It feels... interesting. Solitary. 

I could spout y'all some bullshit about this new-found joy of being able to discover the real you and having time for yourself and finally being free to explore and clear out the cobwebs in your own mind... but, I am sorry, that is complete and utter bullshit. Whether in a relationship or not, I have always been the real me, even my fascinating door-stoppers of textbooks cannot stop me from making time for myself (and my sunrises) and there are just too many cobwebs in my mind for me to clear out anyway, single or otherwise. (So guys, if there's one semi-coherent thought you wish to take away from all this, it is this: never stop being the real you, whoever you are sharing your bed space with. Just sayin'.)

When I saw my cousin's family, and how they bloomed and blossomed from friendship to husband and wife to creating a family and a home and a life of their own, it makes me feel so incredibly happy for them. It also makes me realise what a blessing it must truly be, to live life in a world you have created for yourself, revolving around the people you really, I mean really, care for and love. It really reinforces how little, simple things can give you infinite joy and... meaning that no amount of travelling or zero-laden paychecks can hope to come close to.

But, like I said, this is neither a whinge nor a wish. It's just a reflection on how damn heavy it feels - single.