In no way does this constitute legal advice. But, it should.
Looking for a reason things aren’t going so well on the opposite sex front! Check your gut fatso. Get down the gym. It’s not hard. But today’s not the day. You don’t need the reminder do you? You want the truth. But you can’t handle it. Your BMI is too high. Do not remind yourself of this fact today. You will be upset. But, exercise tomorrow.
Doing this would be an horrendous error today. You know it’s depressing enough on the other 364 days. Fellas, you really think it’s a girl on girl caller, come on, seriously? Ladies, you think David Beckham is really going to have sex with you? The starkest reminder of your loneliness would be to self pleasure. Deep down you know there wouldn’t be any pleasure in this. Just pity. It would merely be a process. A process you can put off to tomorrow. Even the spank bank should be closed once a year. I don’t know what the female equivalent of that is. Some sort of building society probably.
Don’t go out
Day, this is an error. Night, this is calamitous. Either way, you only have yourself to blame. You know that feeling you have when you go Christmas shopping and you see the happy couples walking hand in hand, hugging in the cold, sharing each other’s warmth, like its oxygen? Well you know how depressing that is, what a stark reminder of your single status that is, yeah?
DON’T. GO. OUT.
Stay in, avoid their happiness, their love, their companionship. Stay in and pine for this, like you do every other day. The pain will be real, raw, unrelenting. But, and this is crucial, you don’t run the risk of crying in the middle of the high street as love surrounds, but never envelops you.
Don’t eat a microwaveable meal
This would be the definition of a mistake. Ever looked up when you pulled one out of the chilled section in Sainsbury’s? Just after you’ve kidded yourself the paella will give you a taste of Spain and that for one brief moment of consumption you will be somewhere else, somewhere so far away from the solitude of your existence. Well, if you do, hold their gaze, those lonely people who stalk the microwaveable meal section, see the horror in their eyes, hold that gaze, those eyes haunted by repressed despair. Well, that is you too. But, today, cook yourself a meal, anything, anything that doesn’t culminate in that aural symbol of solitude. Ding.
Treat yourself. And get yourself some skills, some cooking skills for when you meet someone.
Don’t look on Facebook
We all know this is depressing as fuck most days. Yes, we’ve got it; you’re happy. At least in the moment you choose to share of you in some foreign country or posed picture. Well, get this, I know you (well, I don’t actually, that’s the point of Facebook, isn’t it?) and I know you are unhappy too. Well, you better be. At least some of the times. But, tonight you are actually happy. The picture of your meal, the picture of you shot by your lover across the dinner table, the picture of your present; they are depressing me. Guys, girls, don’t look on Facebook today unless you want to feel a mixture of these emotions; jealousy, jealousy, jealousy.
Don’t listen to music
That song, you know the one, the one that takes you back to the moment you were in love. When weekends were filled by a kaleidoscope of images. Images so beautiful then, but fading so quickly, all their colour bleeding out; walking hand in hand in the park, crossing forks in the restaurant as you feed each other, snuggling up in the taxi backseat as you rush towards the moment when your lust will be quenched. That song that plays in your mind on a loop, every word, every phrase laced with meaning:
‘If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world’
Why would you run this risk of hearing this? Turn the radio off. Watch TV. But not ITV2; too risky. Dinner Date will break your heart.
Don’t look at old photos
Seriously? You are actually contemplating this today. You know better. You had good times, you saw new places, tasted new foods, your world shifted, if only briefly in their arms, in their presence. You captured that moment on film. Preserved forever. Leave it in the recesses of your house, like the memory is in the recesses of your mind. It’s there for a reason; it made you who you are, but not who you will be. The love of another will shape you.
You will disappoint me if you succumb to this temptation. Leave it for another day. The answers don’t lie in this brutal game. The answers lie in you realising; how fucking awesome you are, how your family love you, how your friends do, how the world is a better place for your footsteps. None of this can be articulated through an app. Tomorrow, go outside, breathe in the air, look in those puddles that used to reflect your sad soul but see how, today, all they do is reflect your beauty.
I think we both know this is merely a coping mechanism, an anaesthetic to the pain of your existence, a pain that is but temporary. Its sweet taste on your lips, the warmth, the comfort it brings you, how you long for it, how you pine for it. This is love, bottled. But this love is ephemeral, it has no meaning, it merely serves a function; to blot out reality. Drinking alcohol today will just delay this realisation. A realisation resulting in the fulfilment of your being. Destiny is calling.
If you can hear it.
Image kind courtesy of http://pixabay.com/en/heart-love-luck-abstract-471783/