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Kristen Rants

The “Misery Loves Company” Conundrum

Everyone who knows me knows I hate cliches- those awful quotes people tweet and retweet, and post onto backgrounds of sunsets and rainbows and mountains to vomit all over your Facebook feed. Most of that drivel is pure, unadulterated, Hallmark junk masquerading as inspiration, manufactured so you can make excuses for yourself and your behavior. “What’s meant to be, will be” is probably my least favorite saying of all, because duh. If shit’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen. You can’t treat someone like a boomerang by testing if God, or Allah, Cthulhu or whatever God you worship will send them back to you. It’s the non committal way of saying, “Let’s take a break because, you know, if we’re meant to be together, I’ll, like, find you someday.” Breaking up or getting back together with someone on the Meant to Be theory is lame, lame, lame. If I get back together with any of my exes, it’s not because it was meant to be- it’s because I’m a masochist.

I could probably go on with a list of Kristen’s most-hated quotes, but I’m watching The Hunger Games and eating Pringles, and that is tonight’s priority. I’ll probably get to it someday when there’s nothing to watch or no where to drink.

There is one cliche, however, that no matter how tired and how sad it may be, is completely true in my life- “Misery loves company.” My outlook on love and romance has been completely decimated by my past relationships, and at 23 I consider myself an embittered old maid, minus the twenty cats. I enjoy going out to bars surrounded by a circle-shield of dude friends, protected from any prospective suitors. A few years ago I remember some guy convincing me to let him buy me and my girlfriends shots. I, in turn, convinced him to buy tequila, after some whiny balking on his end. Shot taken, I left the bar, deciding that giving the poor kid a thumbs up was equivalent to giving him my name. Since my jerktastic behavior apparently can’t be helped, I’ve decided to remove myself from the standard, typical dating scene.

My problem is instead of accepting my fate and being happy for the romantic successes of others, I insist that everyone follow me down the sucky rabbit hole of permanent solitude. I am misery incarnate, and I crave company. The most recent example of my single lady scorn happened when a couple that I’ve known for years (one college friend, and one high school marching band buddy/co-worker) got engaged. Not only are they engaged, they have great jobs, their own apartment, and the cutest freaking puppy you’ve ever seen. I hate them. I’m very happy for them, but I hate them. Most of my hate probably stems from the fact that my ex of six years and I started breaking up when they got together, and my ex got custody of this couple in the divorce. They have everything in life that I wanted, that I thought I was entitled to. Where’s my big fat rock, my doting fiancee, and my German Shepard named Charlie? Probably hiding under my mound of designer shoes and self loathing tucked in my closet.

Why can’t everyone’s love life suck as much as mine does? If there’s “someone for everyone” (yet another hated cliche), why the hell does everyone have someone except for me? If that last statement seems melodramatic and exaggerated, tell that to my Facebook. Five people that I know have gotten engaged/married in the last month. Plus, there’s that new annoying feature that puts relationship changes next to birthdays and constantly reminds me of my friends that are far happier than I. ZUCKERBERG!!!!!

My flashes of jealousy are muted by reminding myself that a normal life in Jersey is not, and probably never was, my dream. My dream is to marry Chris Evans/Tim Tebow in Walt Disney World after winning a Pulitzer for I Make Bad Decisions: Part Six, and live happily ever selling cupcakes out of a truck. I should be ecstatic that former friends of mine are swimming in happiness, just as I’d hope they would be ecstatic for me when Chris/Tim FINALLY pops the question. Until that day, I’ll just keep pretending I’m love-apathetic while secretly watching Sweet Home Alabama and playing L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole on loop.

But seriously, if you hate everything and everyone too, join my club. Membership’s practically free, it only costs your happiness! Payment plans/installments available.

About I Make Bad Decisions

Law school dropout. Lover of all things Disney. Making bad decisions daily for your enjoyment.


One thought on “The “Misery Loves Company” Conundrum

  1. Why not take it one step further and join the miserable company of thousands of other love despondents in the online dating community. Not only will you be filled with uplifting and flattering messages from well-mannered gentlemen–i.e. “What’s up hoe!!!!! NICE TITS!!!!!” (actual quote)–but you can also enjoy the fact that the entire dating pool dried up, leaving behind every stereotypical candidate for Mtv’s Real World (except Season 1). I’m in the same “all my friends are getting married” boat, and my only hope is that they remain pro-choice for at least a few more years.
    Anyway, where’s the sign up for your club, and does tequila come with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s?

    Posted by Nick | 08.20.12, 12 am, 12:23 AM

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Circa very late 2014/very early 2015.

Law school dropout. Lover of all things Disney. Exploring the vast wildlands of New Jersey and recording every second.


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