The Joy In Leaving The Bar Alone At The End Of The Night

Last night, I left the bar alone.

I said goodnight to my friends and left the bar by myself.

 Last night, I went out with a group of friends from college; both men and women, ZERO couples. Do you know how rare that is in a group of 20-somethings? And here’s the kicker. There weren’t any couples AND no one was sleeping together. It was amazing. It was a group of friends going out to have a good time, and dammit, we had a good freakin’ time. BUT, I swear it was single’s awareness night because the amount of slow songs was off the chart. We all had our eyes peeled for the cutest guy or girl to walk by our little booth in the back of the bar.

I walked myself to my car and got in. Alone. I was smiling.

Last night, I got interested looks from a couple guys throughout the night, but none of them made an effort to come say hello. I was perfectly fine with that. In my camo t-shirt and shorts, I was not screaming, “pay attention to me!!” from the top of a skyscraper, unlike the girl in the skintight elastic black denim jeans and a flowy blouse that could better be described as a bra with sleeves. I danced a couple partner dances with some of my guy friends and danced a couple songs with a guy I’d never met. He was cute. He was just learning, so I helped him with a couple songs and then we parted ways with big smiles on our faces. Nothing more, nothing less.

I drove myself home, alone, singing along with the radio at the top of my lungs.

Last night, I watched as couples interacted. You could tell the first dates. You could tell the long-term couples. You could tell the pair standing at the bar railing who had never met before tonight. I love watching these couples, regardless of the stage in their relationship. Some people get really annoyed when they are single and surrounded by couples. I, however, am on the opposite end of the spectrum. I love seeing the look in her eyes when he spins her on the dance floor.

I love seeing him grin sheepishly when she shimmies his way during a line dance. It’s fun to see the relationships as a completely uninvolved third party. Sure, they could have their struggles, but tonight, while they’re dancing, or sitting at the bar, or whatever, they’re in the moment. Enjoying the company of someone who has caught their eye.

I walked into an empty apartment, all the lights out, and got ready for bed by myself.

Last night, I had multiple instances where thoughts came into my head like, “I kind of wish that was me, so happy with my partner,” or “look at how cute they are together,” or sometimes, “gross… get a room people.” But the truth was that I was going home alone. I could have gotten up the balls to approach one of the cute guys standing on the sidelines of the dance floor.

I could have pulled out the “Flirty Me” side that exudes coy sarcasm and self-proclaimed quick wit. But I was too busy enjoying my evening. You’d think it would make me sad to see all the slow-dancing couples, paired off in twos, while I sat in a group of ones. It didn’t. 

I put my pajamas on and crawled into bed. Alone. I was smiling. 

Last night, I snuggled under my Ikea comforter and counted my blessings for good friendships, lots of laughs and an evening of dancing my heart out. I also counted my blessings that I was home alone. Why? Because I would rather be at home, sprawled out starfish style in my full-sized bed, all by myself, than be sharing my bed with someone who didn’t want to be here for the right reasons.

Sure, you can find someone to fill the vacant side of your bed. It’s not that hard. But when you’re lying next to someone who does not truly and deeply care about the side of the bed that you occupy, what’s the point?

I left the bar alone, and I will do so until I have someone that makes me want to leave the bar with him by my side.