I Don't Date

They laugh.

All….the time.

It is most annoying. They bicker and fidget and laugh that oh so irr-i-tat-ing laugh, the kind of laugh that sounds a feminine Joker off his meds, as they ask me one single question over and over and OVER again.

Why don't you date.

As if they know what the Hell their talking about.

Date a looser of an individual (not that they aren't themselves) and then dump them in a week? What's the point? They never leave a good impression when they tell me this, their hair all ironed, makeup caked onto every facial feature they have.

They talk, and talk spreads to rumor, of me dating random (and mostly annoying) individuals, to which whenever someone asks me if they are true, I simply say, 'no'.

Because there not.

Part of me is angry at them. There are many things I cherish in this world, two of which are my privacy, and my pride. Whenever one, the other, or both are in danger, my cutting remarks are deep, and the insufferable women tend to leave if they actually get the hint.

Another part of me pities them, the poor fools. No doubt they are taking after their parents. When you sit in a room, close your mouth, and open your ears, the stories you hear can be quite astonishing. Some of their parents have been married a good five times. I've met some of them as well, and the mothers are almost always spitting images of their daughters, straightened hair and make-up. Funny, whenever I try (or am forced to, due to circumstances) to make polite conversation with them, they appear to look down their nose at me. It's as if my brown, short, unruly hair, my teenage-acned face, my glasses, my tenacious attitude, my black pants and converse, irritate them. Like I am the fly in their daughters' pudding. No doubt, they have heard stories. I am not a shy individual by any stretch of the word, and have made my opinions known with a good shake of my fist and a bellowing voice on numerous occasions.

They ask me as well.

"My daughter says you're probably the only single girl in the school."

"No doubt to that, madam."

They'll say nothing for a while, looking me up and down in a way that reeks of 'I wonder why,' till they finally pop the question and ask,

"Why?"

Why? Because I have standards.  Because I know most of the people here are not what I need. Because I want to know what real love is. Because I have wants and needs and dreams that no one in this school can fill.

Because.

But I don't tell them that.

They wouldn't get it.

I just simply say, "I don't want to."

I remember every look that I've ever gotten for that reply, even though there all mainly the same.

When the straight girls talk of men they long for, the names Pit, Rickman, Depp, and a few couple hundred others.

I have never really longed for anyone. Longing is for people who don't take action, who don't do something about what they want or how they feel.

I wish, which I must say is very different from longing.

I think of Mr.Darcy, Mr.Bingly, Mr.Thorton, Harry Potter. Not in the way the others do, I do not long for what they do.

Merely, I wish I could find one of my own. If I stole Mr.Darcy, Miss.Bennet would be lonely. Mr.Bingly, the other Miss Bennet. Mr.Thorton, Elizabeth. Harry, Ginny. Why would I wish to cause misery to someone when they just….fit. That would be like caging a bird, or taking a child away from a caring (caring being the key word) mother.

No.

I just wish I could find someone who makes me feel like those lucky women do. My own personal gentleman. Someone for me.

I guess that's just what those girls from school want too, they just don't have the patience.

Sometimes, I wonder if I have enough patience myself.

But I will stay true to my morals and my standards. I created them after all, to abandon them now would be a waist.

I will continue to wait.

I will continue to wish.

I just hope he comes soon.