persona_non_grata (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
persona_non_grata) wrote2023-02-14 03:30 pm
persona_non_grata) wrote2023-02-14 03:30 pm
Entry tags:
Inevitably sad Valentine's entry
How many journals get started on Valentine's Day? I think it must be a lot. There must be lots of people like me out there, thinking about how happy everyone else is with their significant others. At least, that's what I tell myself. My sisters say the same thing. But they're all out with their boyfriends now, and I'm here at home alone. Even my parents are gone.
I live in one of the most romantic cities on Earth. Not Paris (though I love Paris; we went when I was nine and I adored it), but Istanbul. I live on the Turkish side. We got to keep the name -- Greece had to make up another one. Really, we just bought the name, because Greece couldn't afford to keep it. It's strange to think that you can copyright a city. It doesn't seem right. But they have patents on DNA, now, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised.
I'm sitting alone in my room with a cup of tea cooling at my elbow and a cat on my lap. I realize this makes me luckier than most people. When I think about how hard the people in Greece have it, I realize I shouldn't feel sorry for myself. But there's just something missing. Most of the time, I think it's a boy. All my sisters and all my friends seem so happy, with theirs. Even when their boyfriends are stupid, they seem basically pleased. It's like they all remembered to make the right turn in an old dungeon-grinder like we used to play as kids, so they picked up the treasure chest. And I just haven't gotten there yet, or (worse) missed the turn entirely.
So I guess it's not a boy I'm missing, it's whatever it takes to get one. You have to bait the hook, I guess, and I just don't know how. Or I wasn't born with the right bait. I'm the youngest, so you'd think I'd learn something from all the examples that preceded me. But they all seem to contradict each other -- my most obnoxious sister has the most devoted boyfriend, and my nicest sister is always trying to hold back tears. It makes no sense and I'm tired of it. They're both lucky to be with anyone at all -- Sister Obnoxiousness should stop taking hers for granted, and Sister Passivity should just go out and find someone better.
Not that I'm one to talk, I guess. All I have is a drooling cat and some cold tea and an empty house.
I live in one of the most romantic cities on Earth. Not Paris (though I love Paris; we went when I was nine and I adored it), but Istanbul. I live on the Turkish side. We got to keep the name -- Greece had to make up another one. Really, we just bought the name, because Greece couldn't afford to keep it. It's strange to think that you can copyright a city. It doesn't seem right. But they have patents on DNA, now, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised.
I'm sitting alone in my room with a cup of tea cooling at my elbow and a cat on my lap. I realize this makes me luckier than most people. When I think about how hard the people in Greece have it, I realize I shouldn't feel sorry for myself. But there's just something missing. Most of the time, I think it's a boy. All my sisters and all my friends seem so happy, with theirs. Even when their boyfriends are stupid, they seem basically pleased. It's like they all remembered to make the right turn in an old dungeon-grinder like we used to play as kids, so they picked up the treasure chest. And I just haven't gotten there yet, or (worse) missed the turn entirely.
So I guess it's not a boy I'm missing, it's whatever it takes to get one. You have to bait the hook, I guess, and I just don't know how. Or I wasn't born with the right bait. I'm the youngest, so you'd think I'd learn something from all the examples that preceded me. But they all seem to contradict each other -- my most obnoxious sister has the most devoted boyfriend, and my nicest sister is always trying to hold back tears. It makes no sense and I'm tired of it. They're both lucky to be with anyone at all -- Sister Obnoxiousness should stop taking hers for granted, and Sister Passivity should just go out and find someone better.
Not that I'm one to talk, I guess. All I have is a drooling cat and some cold tea and an empty house.