All I want is a nice boyfriend who then becomes my husband.

I’m like so cute, but I need my friends to remind me because I don’t have a man to do it.

My friends don’t understand how I’m still single!

My friends sort of understand how I’m still single.

I sell myself short. A lot.

I really shouldn’t beat myself up about still being single (note: I don’t beat myself up, and I don’t use the phrase ‘still single’).

Every time I put mascara on, my intention is to meet a nice guy.

I’m just ready to get off this insane hamster wheel known as ‘dating’. I’m definitely not enjoying the free food and meeting tons of new people.

I’m straight and have never questioned it. I’m certainly not currently questioning it right now. I want a man!

Edit: I need a man.

I stay in shape, so it just really makes no sense to me why I don’t have at least one ring.

I only stay in shape to get at least 1 ring.

I’m extremely envious of all my friends in relationships, even if all they do is fight with their partners.

My 30th birthday was the worst day of my life.

I would be such a catch, if only I acted like all my married friends in every way.

I look forward to finding a husband so I can start eating carbs again.

I’ve used every single dating app. Literally, every last one. I paid a photographer to take photos of me for my most recent Hinge profile. I took money out of my 401k to do that. It seemed worthwhile — all my friends told me it was.

I’m not offended when someone suggests I use a $5,000/year matchmaking service. It’s a great idea! Who needs a 401k?

I’m so bored of my vibrator.

I sleep around, and I HATE it.

I’m so lucky to have so many married friends to set a good example for me.

I read the New York Times Modern Love column every Sunday with a box of tissues nearby.

My life won’t feel complete until I have a boyfriend/fiance/husband/rat infestation. Just something so that I’m no longer alone. I’m so alone.

I am SO GRATEFUL to anyone who offers to set me up, even if he’s 12 years my senior and thrice-divorced.

I have a device installed to drink white wine in my shower. I’d prefer to shower with a man, but white wine fills the void. I don’t think the idea of having a man in the shower sounds remotely inconvenient or inefficient. Without one, I have no choice but to shower, drink, and cry.

I’m way too picky for how long I’ve been single. I should be happy with a loaf of bread (not to eat — to marry. No carbs until I’m married!)

Whenever a new friend of mine gets engaged, I sob.

I only go on Facebook to see other people’s happiness and burst into tears.

I’m extremely aware that all my friends feel sorry for me, and I feel bad for making them pity me! This makes me cry.

I nervously check my calendar every six minutes to watch my eggs slowly die. As I do, I wet myself (with tears). Also, yes, I have a calendar that tells me how fast my eggs are dying. It was a kind gift from my most recently-married friend.

The last time I was truly happy was in my last relationship, with my boyfriend, Tad, who cheated on me with my sister. God, I wish I could get him back. [cue a tear dramatically rolling down my already-tear-stained cheek]

I need to have faith — there’s at least one right person for me out there, and I will have value as a human once I meet him. I need to put down the tissue boxes that I tape to my tits for easy access, stop feeling sorry for myself, and accept literally any man who looks my way.

I’m so lonely.