The Single Gay Life of a 20-something

This isn’t no Ke$ha song, though I do display it quite well.  I don’t shit glitter, but I do Budweisers.  I go to gay bars and everyone around me is just acting fabulous and chanting Beyonce lyrics, and I’m just trying to find a cigarette to pretend I’m not smoking while nobody knows where I went.  Inconspicuous, I know.  It’s rough being awesome.

Then there’s the lonely moments.  When you realize that you’re incredibly single.  No future, no prospects, just living each day trying to figure out tomorrow.  As my friend told me, “We’re in our twenties, this is the time to figure it out.  Would you want to wake up next to someone and not know what would have been different if you lived?”  It’s true, we’re living wild and free.  She’s graduating with her Master’s in Counseling in August, wants to move to a big city but doesn’t know what to do.  We’re lost, confused, and wish someone would hold a candle to guide us ahead.

We won’t get it.

In fact, the only thing we’re being given is something that many would die for in their forties:  a fresh start.  A new time to introduce ourselves to a new city, new people, as the person we have become out of true strife and struggle.  We’ll have to go into this world with our highly educated, debt laden asses and figure it out.  And along the way build a life that we are proud of.

Personally, I’m starting bartending school next week.  I’m setting myself up for success, not failure.  Now if someone could tell my mother that…


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