(*Image sourced from and credited to behappy.me*)
We all know a relationship junkie/serial monogamist.
Don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no problem with long term relationships, and rather like the idea of finding someone who makes me want to stick around for longer than a few dates and a disappointing kiss. I also fully appreciate that people are going to have more than one relationship in a lifetime.
However, I can't help but feel a little saddened when people commit to one person, and then another, and then another, and then another (repeat process until old and wrinkly....), without so much as 5 spare minutes to prance around naked to Beyonce's 'Single Ladies', or even learn the slightest rights from their relationship wrongs. Their relationship ends, and just one Adele-lyric-clad Facebook status later, they've been tagged in photos with their new 'soulmate', and are suddenly the most infuriatingly 'loved up' person on the planet. Seriously folks, I've no issues with happiness when it's genuine, but is an annual pass to the 'luuurrrveeee lounge' and a constant desire to be with someone really a fulfilling way to live?!
I have come to realise that a guy I was once involved with, who, by the way, is still completely oblivious to the fact that he fits this description, is the ultimate serial monogamist. He was pretty chilled at first, but as soon as I agreed to be his doting girlfriend, he made me the sole focus of his entire life, and refrained from doing anything that related to him following his own dreams or living as an independent human being. It was incredibly flattering for about 2 minutes, before it became decidedly creepy. I love an ambitious man, and here I was, stuck with someone whose only ambition was to love me even more than he had done yesterday. Shit.
If I wasn't such a contemplative, analytical dork, he would have made an entirely convincing boyfriend, and although I got lost in an awkward, hysterical state of laughter when he told me I was 'most definitely' the girl he was going to marry, I was quite touched by how much he cared about me. Unfortunately, he didn't care for me half as much as he thought he did. Yup, he may well have banged on about butterflies and goosebumps and soul-mates and flowers and all things beautiful and wonderful, and he may well have convinced himself that I was his future Mrs Brilliant, but once upon a time, he'd also thought these things about Ashley. And Tamara. And Rachel. And Kerry. And Emily. And Sophie. And Jessica. And every other girl that had given him a smooch the second he'd sent the words 'beautiful', 'perfect', and 'intelligent' flying in their direction. Guilty as charged.
I can't help but feel that the mind of the relationship junkie is one with an unhealthy core of extreme neediness and dependency; one that absolutely must latch on to someone. I can only assume that such intense relationships with so many people are a simple means of distraction from unresolved anger, pain and insecurity. There is a difference between being in love, and being addicted, and I think it's time that people who suffer with this realise that finding their 76th 'soulmate' does not mean that they are a Paddy McGuinness style romance royalty, but instead that they are trying to compensate for a love that they have been cheated of in their past. It's not cool, and it's not fair, particularly when it involves holding another human being hostage with your feelings.
Love, real love, is a vast and fascinating world that should be appreciated in all its glory, not used as a scapegoat from reality.
What do you think folks? Do you know someone like this? Are you a relationship junkie with a different opinion? Tweet me your thoughts! @kathyb5710