Not This Again

As I was walking down the street, my fists clenched and my jaw tensed. My mind kept swirling with those questions I get asked all the time – the ones that won’t leave me alone, no matter how much I wish they would.
“When are you bringing home a man? Isn’t it about time you thought of marriage?”
“I want to have fun with my grandchildren – when are you giving me one of those adorable little babies?”
“How are you managing? It must get terribly lonely, living in that huge flat all by yourself.”

I have to keep dodging these bullets, coming at me at full speed. If it’s already like this at twenty, I don’t dare imagine what awaits me as I grow older. Every conversation – whether it’s with family, friends, or coworkers – circles back to the same tired topics: relationships, marriage, babies. I can’t stand it. Sometimes I wish those concepts would just vanish altogether. Why should I always be the one explaining myself? Explaining why I don’t want children, or why the ultimate goal of my life isn’t to land a man and marry him as soon as possible, as if that desire were some universal truth.

I don’t want to sacrifice my peaceful after-lunch naps just to soothe a screaming little monster from dawn to dusk. And I certainly don’t want a man tying me down, dictating how I should live. All I see around me are unhappy couples, restraining each other while pretending that’s what happiness looks like. I’m convinced the Earth would be a brighter place if people invested their time in friendships instead of endlessly chasing men, daydreaming about wedding dresses, and obsessing over babies.

And don’t even get me started on housework. Doing everything yourself while getting zero help from the so-called love of your life – only to see the house you scrubbed spotless fall into chaos the moment your man steps through the door. Then you get to start over again the next day, trapped in a never-ending loop of cleaning and cooking. Throw a baby into the mix, and it’s just impossible to keep up. So much fun for one lifetime!

I haven’t changed much since high school and my first failed attempt at love. If anything, my feelings toward the whole idea have only soured. Being abandoned by my friends and spending most of my time alone, I grew bitter – bitterer by the day – finding relief only in my dreams.

I was on my way to meet one of my best friends, Shio—who, of course, is in a long-term relationship and ditches me for him most of the time. There’s always something more urgent to do with your man, right? They always seem to need you more than anyone else. Friendships tumble down to the bottom of the priority list. Best friends wait in silence while the boyfriend drains the life out of someone who once brimmed with vitality. Having a man in a woman’s life is treated like putting the strawberry on top of a birthday cake—only this strawberry is rotten. I can hardly bear the thought of watching Shio turn into Kaneko’s housewife, while he drinks himself into oblivion night after night, and she loses her mind beneath the weight of her wifely duties. Ugh. The very idea makes me sick. I don’t want it to happen—but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

But never mind. Today, at least, on my awaited day off, Shio and I had plans: a museum visit, lunch at our favorite pub, maybe even a beer afterward. Or two. I was excited. It had been so long since I’d had company for something as simple as this. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but being single while all my friends are in relationships often left me sitting alone, eyes stinging, staring sadly down at the beautiful plates of food I ordered just for myself in fancy restaurants I’d discovered while scrolling on TakTak. Food definitely tastes better when it’s shared. I wanted to share it with my friends – but they already had someone else to share with, someone who embodied their future and filled the emptiness of their existence with a sense of purpose.

I know what most people would say: I should pair up too. But I don’t want a boyfriend just to avoid loneliness. The loneliness I experience in the first place is caused by the very existence of boyfriends and girlfriends. It only makes sense to get a partner if you truly love the person you’re getting together with. At least, that’s what I think – however naive it might seem. I grew up reading romantic novels and watching romantic movies, and I can’t just “level down” in order to avoid being left on my own… that just doesn’t feel right, and it can’t be right by any chance.

Lost in this rapidly flowing river of thoughts, I soon arrived at the spot where I was supposed to meet Shio. I was a bit early – as usual – so I decided to stroll around the nearby mall, hoping to find something nice to wear, or maybe just clear my head a bit before she arrived. I didn’t want to ruin the mood of our “date.”

Stepping inside, the mall’s air-conditioning felt wonderfully refreshing after the heavy summer heat outside. I took a deep breath and began my little adventure between the shops. But only a few minutes passed before the irritation I’d felt earlier crept back in. Everywhere I looked, couples were acting all cutesy with each other. One slim guy with a surprisingly masculine jawline was gently stroking his girlfriend’s shining, pitch-black hair as she read a cinema pamphlet with her eyebrows furrowed, probably trying hard to decide which film to watch. I could envision them sitting there, hand in hand, her head resting on his lean shoulder, sneaking kisses whenever the scene on the screen made the whole room a little darker for a quick second.

Another couple was making out inside a toy car meant for kids – the kind you feed two euros into for five minutes of racing. When the lovebirds finally climbed out, clothes rumpled, hastily brushing their hair with their fingers, I knew exactly what they’d been doing in there. Moments later, children scrambled into the same bright red car, laughing, blissfully unaware of what had taken place inside just a minute earlier. Disgusting. Such things should be punished by law – especially when done in places meant for kids!

I got caught up in my rage once again when my phone’s buzz threw me off. Could it be Shio, telling me she was here? I pulled my phone from my back pocket and read the message:

„Heeey, Amichi! I’m so sorry, but Hajime has this thing today and he just told me he needs my help with it… I’m so so so sorry, I can’t make it today! But please, have fun, and maybe even find a guy while you’re out?? ;) Luv, S.”

Everything around me went shudderingly cold. It felt as if the sun had dropped out of the sky, leaving me alone in endless darkness, small as a fly with its wings broken. Why does this always happen? Why does he always need her whenever I finally manage to get her to meet up with me? Why don’t I matter anymore? Why is everyone’s whole life their stupid boyfriend?

A picture flooded my mind’s eyes. I was sitting at the table in my kitchen, empty plates with remnants of cakes on them, cake on my fingers and around my mouth. It was my birthday last year, when my friends were supposed to come over for a little celebration. It wasn’t even supposed to be a big party or anything, just us girls, eating different flavored handmade cakes and playing fun games, maybe singing a few songs—just for the sake of old times. I’d waited for three hours, then ate all the cakes by myself, my tears streaming down my cheeks like someone was forcing them out with a hose.

I hate this reality. I hate boyfriends. I hate people whose whole existence revolves around men. I hate it, I hate it.

I rushed out of the mall, ran all the way home, and jumped into my bed just as I was: fully dressed, makeup on, without brushing my teeth, my bag still on my shoulders. I covered myself with my comfy sheets and pillows, hugged my huge panda plushie to my chest, and wept, wishing myself into another world – a world where romantic love did not exist.