Single. Taken.

(A story by Tatiana Garcia)

You might roll your eyes when people say they’re happy just because they’re in a relationship. Many are liars, but not me: I really don’t miss being single. Before Justin “got” me, I was a mess. I showered only when I could take in my own odor (after all, since I work indoors, I didn’t see the point of wasting electricity, water, soap, and especially 15 minutes of my time). Now, I shower twice a day: I happily waste hot and cold water, my skin as smooth as a baby’s buttocks.

I didn’t use to wear make-up, even when the dark circles around my eyes made it seem like I‘d been involved in a domestic fight. My old fashion statement? “This is my face: you can back now.” Today, I am the proud owner of mascara, brushers, lipsticks, and different shades I use to create a dramatic, innocent, or (my favorite:) “Buy me what I want” effect.

I remember long and meaningful conversations with my teddy bear while we both ate ice-cream. How could I’ve been so careless? Ice cream makes you fat! I soon discovered a new mathematical equation: being fat = no boyfriend. Stuffed animals, on the other hand, can get your boyfriend a little concerned in regards to your mental state. That is why I convinced my teddy bear to commit suicide for me. Papucho is still hanging from the shower rod.

Before, kids were just selfish little midgets; they had no particular reason to want things, and they possessed the biggest set of lungs on Earth (all that yelling!). Now, kids are sweet little angels whose only purpose is to perfect the happiness in the nest. Valerie and Nicholas will bring tenderness to the 3 bed/ 2 bath country house Justin will buy me once he gets a real job. (He tells me being a tattoo artist is a job but that is just nonsense). Of course, he doesn’t know about any of this yet. According to Cosmopolitan, he could freak out (just a little?) knowing that, even though we’ve only been together for three months, I’ve been picturing a white wedding gown with live butterflies pinned to the back of the dress. I imagine Underground Resistance playing at the reception in Sunny Isles.

Thanks to Justin, I am techno savvy now. I listen to Pandora! Three months ago, my phone was used only to send messages such as “I can’t talk, I am at school (or work)” and that was it. With Justin, communication has become so much richer. I ask very soulful questions, like “Where are you?”, “What are you doing?” and “What did you have for breakfast?” I can follow him on Facebook using my fake account (I don’t want him to think his fiancée is a stalker), and know his exact location 24/8, particularly since Justin has been a little cold toward me recently.

I am sure it is just a phase. He is not returning my phone calls and texts, nor is he reacting to my Facebook emoticons. He even sent me a strange email two weeks ago: “You changed. I don’t like the new you. Maybe it might be better to be just friends.”

I saw him having ice-cream with a flat, messy, dirty-haired girl who carried a stuffed animal in her backpack. Boy, I felt bad for her: she is not going to get a boyfriend, looking like that.


Tatiana Garcia is a college student who lives in Miami.

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