You Won't
"But how do you know you won't find someone one day?"
My heart sinks with dread instead of uncontrollably pounding in the way everyone thinks it should. The words around "you" make me feel small, like I am some pawn in the world's game where the one rule is love.
"One day"
They say it like there is a name written inside my fortune cookie after a too-expensive-yet-totally-worth-it Chinese takeout night. I'll crack open a cookie and he'll be waiting for me next to the lotto numbers. And my heart will skip and my stomach will become a menagerie of foreign insects.
"Do you know you won't?"
Where's the "don't?" Where's the "can't?"
Not because I choose. But because my insides don't attach to the idea of another person to become codependent with. I'm not a remora. My existence does not revolve around a predator I hope won't screw me over and swallow me whole. I was told the world was an oyster that capitalism liked to pillage---I thought I was meant to play into the system of buy-in, cash out. I'm telling you that I never started with any chips. I'm not allowed at the poker table without a buy-in. And no one wants to sacrifice their own to give me a shot at a game I've never played.
"Someone," do you mean anyone? Do you mean to tell me that you don't choose who to love? Who falls for the ugly, nerdy, poor loser without a social skill to save his life? Clearly none of you are at the complete whims of your heartstrings because all of you amatanormative players fall for the same people.
"But how do you know?"
It took me a while. When everyone assumes you have the same functions, no one bothers to read your manual. They use their own. Everyone describes feelings of love in metaphors because it's a "universal experience," so how was I meant to know that I was built without that feature? I thought my feelings were just more confusing than others’ for a long time. That it took me longer to love. That everyone chose who they wanted to crush on using a spreadsheet.
"Do you know" that I might be choosing this? That I may be blocking out my own chance of love? That it might be the pills in my cabinet or the way I was raised?
How many times do you think I've heard that question?
How many hours have I spent researching, pondering, praying to find answers?
How many people do you think I've come out to before you?
You don't like the questions when I ask them, huh?
I always get questions. And sometimes, it's people trying to understand. And I love answering those. I will talk to you for hours about my self-discovery. My research. The books I've read and the subreddits I've posted on.
But I almost always hear "But how do you know that you won't find someone one day?"
And never "You won't find someone one day. And that's ok."
Take your time. I'll keep waiting, if it makes you feel better about my situation.
For now, I'll keep saying it to myself.
