Ever since I could remember, being in a relationship was vital to my survival. I felt as though, in life, romantic love was the one thing worth searching for. When I met someone new, I would gauge whether or not I would develop a crush on them within the first 15 minutes of speaking. It was bad.
The disgusting company of loneliness crept in every time I’d scroll through Instagram and see a happy couple celebrating an anniversary or watch a successful first date take place at my coffee shop job. Being single was an exhausting existence.
That isn’t to say I haven’t ever had a supportive, loving, uplifting friend group around me in those desperate times. Even in my loneliest moments, I had some of the best friends in the world. And, while their love provided me mild comfort, it never seemed to be enough. If it was not someone I could spend a weekday night cuddling in bed, watching movies with, I didn’t want it.
And then, it hit me: I could.
In an article written by Shoomena Amil which discusses the neurology of love, there is a neurological difference between romantic love and platonic love. In our brain, romantic love is distinguished “by the presence of high arousal and strong emotions.” In essence, romantic love tends to neurologically show up stronger. However, I’m a Scorpio rising and venus; all my emotions are intense, even towards my friends.
But, just because scientifically the two loves can react differently, this isn’t to say one is more necessarily fulfilling than the other.
Somewhere along my seemingly never-ending search for the perfect romantic companion, I found myself enjoying my friends more than my search for love.
As a quality-time love language girl, anytime I’m around somebody I love, it’s emotionally fulfilling. Me and my friends sit around a circle reading hilarious prompts off a card with stomach aches from laughing. Or we sit in a crowded bathroom doing our makeup and asking for intimate life advice. There are moments spent with my friends that I don’t believe could feel the same if spent with a romantic partner.
In that realization, singledom started feeling free.
The world of situationships and casual hook-ups became boring. Nothing substantial ever amounted from the meaningless exchanges and I had no real enjoyment in it. Why would I drive to someone’s house at 11 p.m. and play pretend when I could hang out with my girls?
My friends still talk to people, still hook up, still flirt – as do I. And that’s not to say that having my friends has extinguished the biological urge for romantic love. I still get a casual feeling of loneliness here and there, or still meet someone and think about the potential of where it could go. But, it has made the want for a relationship feel less like a necessity and more like an afterthought.
I love my friends deeply. I tell them every day. My life would be a gray void if I did not get to share it with the people I have around me. And ultimately, I don’t believe my search for a relationship was ever about the actual relationships, but more about the need to feel as if somebody wanted me around. And my friends do.