Being Single with Cancer SUCKS

[or “Why I Think They Should Just Hand You a 1000 Cats With Your Cancer Diagnosis When You Are Single”]

I told him I wanted to write a post about how much it sucks to be single with cancer but I feel like it is just so whiny to cry about all the things that hurt about being single through all of this and would discount all of the great support I have around me. Everyone is always telling me how upbeat and positive while I’m all sad because I’m alone 90-95% of the time and just want someone to cuddle up with me on the couch to watch movies or take me out on a stupid date (or… or… or… the list goes on for a pitifully long time). No one wants to date a sick bald girl who is always tired and weak.

He said, “I think you should write the post.”

I asked him why? To vent my spleen? It just seems so pathetic and I have been single for so long now I suspect everyone just figures that my being single is a personal choice and that I like it being alone as opposed to a “chick can’t land a date if you tied movie tickets and coupons for free steak dinners around her neck” type reality now made all the more difficult by a lack of hair and reproductive organs.

“Just curious if you have tried a dating site.”, he asked, followed closely by, “Also, I think many would not care about reproductive organs.”

Have a tried a dating site? HA! Yes, I’ve tried multiple dating sites.

The most successful outcome is MSEE that I’ve been talking to for years but have only been out on 4(?) actual dates …and none of those recently. He’s not intimidated by my intelligence, loves my sense of humor, and is all kinds of supportive from a comfy introverted distance but that severely lacks a certain something.

 Then there is the parade of losers:
  1. Guy who actually asked if I was able to have children before ever even asking me on a date or meeting me in person. (this guy certainly cared about reproductive organs along with what skills I could bring to the relationship)
  2. Those who have deemed themselves not intelligent enough for me before we ever even met in person (or allowing me to make that determination for myself).
  3. Extremely memorable guy who couldn’t understand why his kicking his dog was a deal breaker for me.
  4. Guy whose first words to me were to ask if I liked full body massages… (are there people who DON’T?)
  5. Dude who offered “coffee, tea, or me turned over your knee getting spanked” as a means of introduction.
  6. Guy who declared himself too boring for me. (granted, I agreed with him on this point)
  7. Twenty-something who offered his services to me at my leisure… in his van…behind a gas station…in Rocky Mount.

The remainder were either older than my father (which is just too weird for me) or more than half my age and applying for my consideration as their sugar momma (in the greatest abuse of the English language I have ever witnessed and I’ve witnessed some major abuse in my day).

“Well, yeah, people are freaks.”

At least the ones who contact me via dating sites!

I told him that perhaps by the time morning hit Zambia my pitiful spleen would vent a post on the blog titled “they should just hand you a 1000 cats if single when diagnosed with cancer.”

“Well, maybe work on the title.”, he suggested.

…don’t worry, I got this, thanks to friends like him (he sayeth so it iseth).

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