It goes without saying that one should not get into a relationship for the sake of having one. Though one may believe that, as the Beatles proclaimed, “All you need is love,” this need may be fulfilled through a variety of avenues, such as friendships and family ties, work, or the other, myriad wonders of one’s own ecstatic existence. Yet this does not prevent the well-intentioned from suggesting, with utmost tact, that perhaps one ought to venture outside one’s quarters more often and meet new people and forge potentially meaningful and gratifying connections, and even offering to set one up with certain gentlemen. If one declines such offers by citing reasons like, “I’m too busy” or “I enjoy being single,” these are decried as apostasy. But isn’t it more objectionable to plunge into a relationship one feels uncertain or conflicted about? Maybe one is not yet ready for commitment, especially in the long-term, or does not know or has not realized the potentials of oneself or the other well enough. In any case, there is no need to rush—one spoils one’s experience of a thing by too eagerly applying a label to it. One should rather allow it to unfold before attempting to parse its reality. Rest assured that there will be time and space for love—when one decides to make time and space for it.
 Of the romantic kind, obviously, because that’s what seems to matter most in the dominant discourse of your social circle largely made up of young adults who regularly read Thought Catalog.
 Which includes, in your case, most everyone and his cat, from Mom and Dad and Little Brother Bear to your friends, students, former thesis adviser, landlady, random creepo on the street, and the “beauty technician” who threads your eyebrows every two to three weeks.
 As in, “You still don’t have a boyfriend? At your age? What is wrong with you?”
 Never mind that your social network encompasses people not only from your neighborhood, work, and schools, but also those you met while travelling* and joining all sorts of clubs for your numerous hobbies, from drawing to dragonboat paddling.
*far and away from the tremors of people and what they lay waste to
 If you know what I mean.**
**because the G-spot is somewhere between your ears, he makes his way with words, that he may have his way with you
 Not with a nervous giggle—remember where*** that landed you before?—but with a firm “No, thanks.”
***sitting on a wooden table out in the yard at half-past midnight, staring across the street at nothing, asking why and what-the-fuck, over and over
 …to be bothered with emotional card games. The key to precluding fuckwittage** is inaccessibility.*
 “Solitude will break you with its yearning,” she said. But you desire no one, and therein lies the problem. You reach out to touch air.
 You’ve realized that loving demands great effort, patience, and generosity, and is not for the emotionally puerile.
 …and that often, regularity breeds insipidity, then discontent and restiveness, and you’re always poised for flight.*
 Getting into a relationship is like taking a long course on someone, until that someone decides to dissolve classes or you drop out, either of which may happen at any time, blindsiding you both.
 in a universe of dying stars, a cosmic loner
 But what does it matter if you’ve decided on him, if he has not decided on you?