Waffled on by Kate Seager (she/her)
The closest I’ve been to a relationship on arguably the most wretched day of the year was receiving a ‘happy valentine's' message from my ex. We’d broken up ten days prior.
It came as no surprise, then, that I once again woke up a single queen in my king (queen) sized bed willing myself to celebrate self love on the 14th of February 2024. Maybe I’m doing it wrong, but self love is a poor excuse for those suffering from singledom to feel less alone while their loved-up peers canoodle in the corner.
No, in fact I don’t want to use my piss poor vibrator when I know full well my flatmate and their partner are watching Love Actually over a glass of wine and definitely having more sex than I’ve had in months right next door. Buying myself flowers? Please, if it weren’t for this cost of living bullshit, I’d be doing that every week. Oh, but have you tried writing a love letter to yourself? Wholesome, if not a little self centred, but wouldn’t it be nice to write to somebody I loved even more than I already love myself?
Rather than buy into what the media tells me I should be doing on Valentine’s day as a single female human, I took the advice of a coupled-up friend. She told me to watch this movie on YouTube that “has some of the best lesbian sex you will see on screen”. Say less.
I should have known it was going to be softcore porn as soon as YouTube was mentioned, but in my naïvity (idiocy?), it didn’t cross my mind. I was desperate for some spice in my life, and nothing was going to stop me from watching it on the big screen in my flat’s living room. I was home alone. It was fine. The opening credits rolled on and for some reason the movie only played in the top corner of the screen. This should have been my first sign, and in my impatient state I’m surprised I didn’t give up then and there. Nonetheless, after a few moments of mindless button pressing, we hit the first sex scene.
My friend was right. Not only was it the best lesbian sex I’d seen on screen, but I simultaneously found myself re-downloading Tinder.
I should preface this by saying that, after scoping out the state of Melbourne Tinder on a recent holiday, I felt confident that Wellington may have upped its game since the last time I found myself using the app—2022. I couldn't have been more wrong. While the movie played in the background I swiped through far too many e-girls (probably lovely people but frankly, not my type), and men?? (I checked my settings and I’m still confused as to why these bald ass guys suddenly appeared). After confessing to a friend that I was back on my silly little dating game, she promptly asked:
“Anyone good?”
To which I replied: “No, just me.” Self love.
I soon remembered that dating apps are going out of fashion anyway. Plus, when I’ve only ever dated people I’ve met in real life, I wasn’t about to start hooking up with randos I met while lying on a couch alone on Valentine’s day while gay film noir played in the background.
Speaking of, my flatmate and her boyfriend arrived home from their dinner reservation mid film noir sex scene. Luckily for me, I paused it just in time and swiftly played it off as “oh yeah just some film I was recommended that I totally wasn’t paying attention to anyway hahahaha”, before switching it to Dune. While they sauntered off into the rest of their night, the third, and thankfully also single, member of our flat made an appearance. We watched in silence as Dune bored us out of our minds and Timothée Chalamet played with sci-fi weaponry. It didn’t take us long to side eye each other into turning what I’m sure would be an excellent movie, if it weren’t Valentine’s day, off. Instead, we Googled bestie Timothée’s discography and discovered one of his lesser known films, A Rainy Day in New York. Not only did it star Selena Gomez, Elle Fanning AND Suki Waterhouse, but it was the perfect movie to end a tumultuous day of singledom.
A Rainy Day in New York, while not the most incredible movie I’ve seen, managed to blend almost every film starring Elle Fanning or Timothée Chalamet, and 90s rom-com nostalgia—quite a mean feat for a film made in 2019.
Near the end of the film the couple of the house, our flatmate and her boyfriend, reappeared to retrieve a couple wine glasses from the kitchen. This time, rather than brushing off a seemingly embarrassing film, my fellow single flatmate and I defended our Valentine’s movie as the ultimate choice if you’re feeling lonely next February 14th. Of course, they didn’t give a shit. Because later that night while I used my piss poor vibrator to little effect, they watched a movie of their own over a glass of wine and definitely had more sex than I’ve had in months—a Valentine’s day I can only dream of.