Jake never imagined he would like being alone. For as long as he could remember, relationships had been a never-ending quest—experiencing the highs of being in love, the lows of uncertainty, and the constant games of guessing whether he was trying hard enough, being good enough. But today, for the first time in years, Jake was in a new place: contentment.
No more overthinking text messages. No more questioning whether her late nights with a coworker were innocent or something else. No more guilt for needing a quiet night in rather than another dinner date. Instead, Jake was able to devote himself to himself, his interests, and his own happiness—without the emotional burden of trying to read someone else's emotions.
Of course, he wasn't unaware of what he was lacking. Love, intimacy, that indescribable sense of belonging to somebody—it was still enticing. But he understood something vital: he wasn't so desperate to pursue it for the sake of not being alone. If the appropriate individual came, he'd be aware. In the meantime, he was absolutely happy living his life on his own terms.
So when his friends made fun of him for not making a move on women who were clearly interested, he just shrugged. He wasn't opposed to love—just opposed to forcing something that didn't feel right. And for the time being, that was plenty.
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