Forever Third Wheel: The Worst Part Of Being Single Is Being Crushless

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Being single doesn’t have to be awful. Sometimes it can be really, REALLY exciting.

That could be when you realize just how many fish there are in the sea. Or when you meet the potential love of your life at the bars, and you dance victoriously around the living room when he TEXTS YOU THE NEXT DAY!! So, yeah, being single can be fun.

But sometimes it means that you’re interested in nobody and bored as f*ck. It’s not that you don't have any options. It's that you don't have ones that excite you. The number of fish in the sea seems simply exhausting.

No name on your screen makes you do a victory dance (except for maybe the pizza guy's).

Being single sucks when you don’t have anybody to even on -- when you lose even the hope for romance in your life.

So here’s what it’s like to be not only single, but also crushless.

You see no potential.

Without a crush, you lose even the hope for any sort of romantic excitement in your life. You’re alone, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon.

Your life is at a plateau in every direction.

Nothing is great. Everything is just fine.

You have no adrenaline rush when your phone goes off.

Mom? Dad? Oh, wait… Grandma. Yep. "Hi, Grammy!"

You annoy the sh*t out of your friends.

Your blue-to-white ratio is astonishing, and you don't even care. These bitches are lucky to be worthy of your precious time and better be showering you with attention if no man is stepping up to the plate.

You feel unmotivated.

You obviously want to look hot and fit for yourself. But when it’s between pizza and the gym, and you know for a fact nobody is going to be seeing your naked body for the next six to 670 years, odds are you're going to choose pizza.

You feel no excitement.

Nobody sends chills down your spine. Life is one giant yawn.

You feel asexual.

You are well aware of how many men there are out there. But why do they all repulse you so much? Do you even have a sex drive anymore? If you were to have sex tonight (fat chance), would you even remember how?!

You take interest in people you usually wouldn't like.

You crave excitement and attention so bad that you let your standards plummet. You overlook the millions of red flags so you can feel something for anyone.

You drudge up exes.

As part of your quest to feel ANYTHING, you pine over people you once strongly liked. You start idealizing them in your head and convincing yourself to give them one more chance.

You try to find validation in other ways.

Like, for example, posting a new profile picture every week. Maybe 200+ likes will add up to the thrill of one text from your crush?

You publicly spiral.

People aren’t stupid -- not even your 37-year-old Facebook friend with all the horses and the Taylor Swift obsession. Everybody knows an over-active social media presence is code for HELP.

You seek attention in inauthentic ways.

So why am I wearing this crop top with leather pants again?

You look at the world through a negative lens.

You live in a hopeless world where there is no love, and there will never be love, and you are going to die in a studio with your 97 cats.

You crave a change.

You need to spice something up. Haircut? Eyelash extensions? SOMETHING.

You become convinced you’re mentally unstable.

Something has to be seriously wrong with me. How can literally NOBODY interest me?

You watch terrible romantic comedies.

…and they make you burst into tears every damn time.

You become obsessed with your exes.

You have tabs on every single one of them. You're like a bored stay-at-home mom with tabs on her teenage daughter’s life.

You find yourself at sketchy places you would never otherwise be.

Maybe the change of scenery will introduce you to someone new and exciting? Or maybe it’ll get you killed. Okay, yeah, you should probably leave.

You crave a thrill.

You need to get that adrenaline rush somehow. Rollercoaster? Running down the streak naked? Crystal meth?!!!?!?

You become self-destructive.

Okay, so maybe you're not doing crystal meth. But you do find yourself creating all sorts of unnecessary drama just to give your life some flavor.

You start worrying about your biological clock.

Yes, I realize that I’m 22 years old and menopause is far off. BUT THE CLOCK IS TICKING, AND I AM VERY, VERY, SUPER, INCREDIBLY ALONE.

You become selfish.

Everything is about you and the empty void that has become your love life.

You become bitter.

Seeing your friends get excited about a new boy legitimately makes you want to vomit.

You become the biggest troll.

You cannot pull yourself away from social media. You have stalked the sh*t out of everyone and anyone with any semblance of a life.

You want a challenge to distract yourself with.

...and one that's less daunting than putting together the leftover pieces of your shattered love life.

You are constantly third-wheeling it.

It’s like you’re THIS close to love.

Because, at the end of the day, everything is about sex.

You’re either getting it from someone you like, not getting it from someone you like or not getting it and not even knowing who it is you like. You, my friend, have fallen into the last category. And I am sorry.