normal people and being single

It’s probably the best time of the year to talk about Normal People. The show, not the book. Our social media feeds are currently inundated with how Connell Waldron Autumn is upon us, or that it’s the best horror film of all time. It’s been over four years now since I sat down after lunch each day, at the beginning of that strange, sunny Summer to cry with my new favourite miscommunicating misanthropes. I remember starting the show and thinking it was just about secondary school. Hearing my favourite podcasters surprised at how much they liked it, before the rest of the world had met Paul and Daisy. I think it’s naïve to think that the show would have just as much persisting social relevance if it wasn’t for the personal lives of its stars. Paul Mescal’s love life has continued to be widely publicised. Daisy Edgar-Jones’ life far less so, potentially because her own celebrity status has been a less stable one than Mescal’s. But what still has life just as much now as it did then is the love they have for one another. They are still friends. They still look at each other just like they do in Normal People. No, I’m not saying they are romantically in love now, or ever were. Their looks are simply their looks and we do not know them well enough to differentiate. I was horrified the other week that they had been at the same music festival I had been at the day prior, accompanied by Paul’s girlfriend Gracie Abrams. They continue to love each other on our screens: in the paparazzi photos, the memes, your fourteenth rewatch of the show, and on the red carpets. And we still love these really quite down-the-middle celebrities, who still appear as anything but,  to us.

         I find being single to be a particularly undignified experience. Or, perhaps I am simply undignified in my actions as a single person. Chasing the high of chasing, of a first, second, third date, or just chasing, pining, accepting, rejecting. Ultimately, so little comes of all that chasing. If anyone does come about who seems wonderful it does not last long. Which is okay. Although at a small university it can be inconvenient (eek). Normal People gives it a bit more dignity though. No, it doesn’t. It makes me feel more dignified in my uselessness. Not because Connell and Marianne are useless (they are), but because who wouldn’t want that? Not the on-and-off, failure to communicate, gut-wrenching shit they go through but the bond, friendship and love that forces all that to happen. It makes me feel a little better that I embarrass myself to try and find that again. Again? Yes, it’s still embarrassing but at least it seems ever so slightly worth it. Ever so slightly.

         I didn’t know how to end this, so I asked the three friends in the room with me for seven words each to describe my love life. I will not tell you all of them for fear of you being the next love of my life but here are some highlights.

         “Non-existent.”

         “Delusional.”

         “Entertaining.”