I hate being single. Yeah. I said it. I know that I’m supposed to be happy about it. Face it with grace and humility, but I don’t want to. I will kick, scream and yell because it sucks. Here I am, writing these erotic stories that make your toes curl and I can’t even cool the fires that arise from writing them. (Well, I could, but I’m tired of doing that by myself, too).



Friends try to help with advice. “Focus on you,” they say. I do and I have. There are only so many movies, fancy solo dinners and concerts that one can partake alone before you start to go crazy. Plus, I’ve been “doing me” for twenty years now. Isn’t it beyond time that the universe brings me whoever this guy is supposed to be?

The other bad advice is “don’t look.” I haven’t. I have focused on my career. I brought my dream car. My house. My dog. I’ve travelled. Lived in different parts of the country. And….nothing. Plus, how is he supposed to find me if I don’t look?

“Well, what about online dating?” *Sigh* If I have to look at one more topless, in the bathroom mirror picture or the one in front of the muscle car that’s not his, I will scream. Then, there are the guys who are on the site, but don’t want to date or who view going out with the same person more than once as being in a “relationship” and, of course, they’re not ready for a relationship.



Granted, the single life does have its perks. I can do what I want, when I want. I can hog the remote. I can quit my job without having to talk to someone about it first. Still, it would be nice to have someone to curl up against at night besides my laptop.

My last date was back in October. Since then, the well has been dry. All I want is a man who is caring, independent. Intelligent. Doesn’t live with his mama or baby mama. Has a job and is ready to be in a relationship. So, what’s it going to take?

Is it me? I ask myself this repeatedly. I’m attractive. I go to yoga. I take a belly dancing class on the weekends. I can cook. I’m intelligent. Positive. And knows the difference between a touchdown and a touchback. Maybe I’m too independent. If I go and lay down on the train track, will he come then? Probably not but setting up a booth in the navel yard is looking pretty tempting.



Lately, the song, Ready for Love by India. Aire has greeted me when I wake up in the morning. If I am ready, what’s his hold up? I’ve meet plenty of great guys but there has been no spark. I have been in love. Have had a couple of almost relationships, where, on paper, the guy was everything I wanted but it just wasn’t right.

I’ve also been hurt, abused, raped, and abandoned. But I’ve never been loved. Have never received flowers just because. Yet, I still fantasize that I’ll turn the corner one day and he’ll be there. Until then, I’ll just have to keep writing about him, but I’m starting to get a cramp in my hand.




R.W. Shannon is the author of several reads on IRE, including Business Before Pleasure and The Education of Sophie. Her upcoming release schedule includes : Nocturne – Beautiful Trouble Publishing, Chasing Dawn –Phaze Books, and Silver Moon – Cobblestone Press. Her other titles can be found on Cobblestone Press. Check out R.W. Shannon's Website and Blog