Have a burning desire to be my new best friend? Or maybe you just want to know the best way to get all that cat hair off your clothes (hint: it’ll never happen) well then hit me up! But, uh, be nice; I’m a delicate petal.
Email: heyjustshireen (at) gmail (dot) com
Twitter: @JustShireen
Just Shireen 
Gerl your awesome ,you could be married in one day..ain’t no 30 yr man got his shit together…you’ve seen that Merry go round. Get out of metro maze
Hi there,
I was just wondering what your thoughts are on what a friend in a couple could do when her single friend is struggling with loneliness?
I’m never sure when I should push, when I shouldn’t, when I should show up with a bottle of wine or what to do after I can’t be the one who shows up with the bottle of wine tonight…
Thoughts?
Wanting to do what I can to help…
Hi Reen,
I have been quietly following your blog for a while, not in a stalkerish way I might add but in more of an ‘I feel empty and your words sooth me’ kind of following. I’ve been offline for a while and recently came back on to find your article about the “10 Heartbreaking Truths Single People Never Talk About”. In ten paragraphs you have encapsulated my loneliness, a loneliness that is brushed off everyday, hidden beneath a quivvering veneer of ‘front’ and form, fighting the good fight and remaining collected to carry out the mundane motions of life. (Ya like drama?)
I am a 27 year old man with a good job and my own home. I’ve never been paired or coupled, never had someone who genuinely wants to be with me in more than a friendly way and never felt affection. To be exact, I’ve never had a girlfriend although I have kissed a girl once. Regardless of the intimate side, I would love for someone to want to be there as I share the details of my day. to make me feel like I’m not just an imaginary friend that my coupled friends see once in a while and then go back to their ‘lives’ together.
I joke to myself that I’m professionally single, that I am happy and I’ll get around to it, that it doesn’t bother me. The sad reality of my situation is that I am insecure and lonely which ultimately has made me cynical of relationships (although I have ZERO experience) with the end result being that I feel like the odd one out at any get together, I can talk, make conversation and enjoy friendships but I feel awkward like an elephant in the room, like everyone else is normal but that I’m just not on the same wavelength and that my input isn’t valid or funny or even remotely appropriate to the company. The idea of approaching someone and getting rejected, although not at the front of my mind, is primarily the reason why I’ve never tried.
I come home every night to my cat, curl up and watch some crap on TV whilst trying not to think about the fact that I am on my own. That the rooms and the walls and the stairs are all empty and lifeless except for my breath, that although disordered and sometimes messy, my house is a shell, a retreat of my own making where every knicknack and piece of furniture has been placed and touched by me and no one else, that no one else has had an input or interest in how the artefacts of my life are ordered.
I’m scared that someone will reject me as I am, warts and all. I know it in my heart but I don’t ever want to be in a position where someone could turn around and tell me that I’m not good enough, that I’m defective, that I’m unloveable and ugly and disgusting and unattractive. I just can’t cope with that kind of pressure. I feel that this would tip me over the edge and although 99% time, I don’t want to hurt myself. the feelings of utter dread, of never being wanted or loved or cared about troubles me to my core to the extent that I could think about harming myself again.
To much dismay, I am a smoker. One night, I was pretty upset over something that had happened in the day (can’t remember what it was though, obviously it wasn’t important), I went out and got drunk, on my own, so drunk that I couldn’t remember anything the next day. I woke up with fear and dread over what I must have said or done and absolute remorse for my wallet. I had written myself an abusive message on my laptop, I remember suddenly that my arm started stinging and I looked down to see five cigarette burns on my forearm… I must have been so upset that I sat and stubbed cigarettes out on my arm. what kind of person does that to themselves? to see their sober counterpart as such a disconnected piece of garbage that they sit and physically abuse themselves as a mode of torture to that other broken person. I have never gotten that drunk since.
I need to stop writing this now as I’ve massively digressed from my original reason for writing this, a simple thanks.
I just wanted to thank you for making me feel a little less lonely, I’m going to be spending christmas on my own this year and to be honest, I’ve not been looking forward to it at all. Your article might just be another one of those “10… things you never knew about Paela” articles to some people but you’ve really cheered me up to know that I’m not the only one with these lonely truths.
Thanks. x