Mad Men

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Another message. Another hour, another message. It's from an unknown number this time, but it's always the same thing. My beautiful sister and her new boyfriend, at some lovely restaurant, being what can only be termed as "sweethearts". He likes her more than she knows, and he could love her in ways she can't really grasp. Love from men, healthy love, isn't something my sister will ever be able to understand.
She was so hurt, those years ago.
She still hurts.
And this wounded girl, this fallen angel, has found a kindred spirit in the unlikliest way. The suburbs are not known for socializing, and mental health groups are not known for their matchmaking.
But here she is. Looking demure, innocent, scared, and hopeful. Everything I want for her.

My hackles are up, of course. When she was hurt, so was I. So was our family. Hurt is never a one-person endeavor. Could this new boy hurt her again? She would never recover.
We would never recover.

In the back of my mind seeps uncharitable thoughts. Why can she get a boyfriend, this mentally ill woman, and I can't even get a date? Maybe I'm not the normal one at all. Maybe I must face my social failure.

Then again...it's, well. It's been an interesting few days for my nonexistent love life. My mom called to check in the other day, and conversation quickly descended into:
"Have you met any nice guys lately?"
This is code for: Have you met The Man You Want To Marry?
At this point, I've stopped noticing the question, and I make sure to vary my answers to suit. Recently, "they're all gay" has been the best response, no matter how untrue it is.
In another thread, one of my best friends is fascinated by my loveless existence. He always wants to talk about it, analyze it, then decide he needs to cheer me about it. Cheering me up usually consists of wondering at how someone as cool and smart as me could be single.
This is not helpful.

I don't lack in companionship. I don't need love or support. I'm taken care of. I'm more than fine.
All I hope, is that people can see the strength I have in my solitude.
For everything I want to have...who I am is pretty close.