This past week, I had not one but TWO sort-of friends get engaged.

I reacted the same way to both of them, which was a deep groan of pain like I had just been stabbed in some non-life threatening area, then I texted a few friends for confirmation that it was indeed true, and then I groaned again because 10 minutes had passed and already Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Snapchat/my life was blowing up with pictures and congratulations for the happy couples.

This first girl, lets call her Jane. We were like mutual-mutual friends at one point in time. Like, I was casually friendly with enough people who were casually friendly with her so when we’d pass each other we’d casually ask how the other was. In all honesty, she annoyed the shit out of me. She was loud, in your face, southern-accent slow-drawl, sorority girl chic, and I couldn’t find one feature that I ever really enjoyed about her. She thought she was hilarious, and I thought she was obnoxious. Her Instagram was full of pictures of the high class things she bought, so she could show the world exactly how high class her material possessions were. I followed her on Instagram for a hot second before I just couldn’t handle it anymore.

When Jane got engaged my first reaction wasn’t, “oh, cool, good for her!” It was, “wait, she actually has a boyfriend that proposed marriage?” She’s one of those girls that when you look at them you think, if she has a boyfriend ANYONE can have a boyfriend. So when I heard that someone had put a ring on it, my reaction was just that. Like, “are you kidding me, she’s had a boyfriend this whole time?” By this whole time, I mean eight months. That’s how long they’ve been dating. Maybe I’m just a little bit old fashioned, but that seems like a really short amount of time. I mean, you couldn’t even have a baby in eight months.

Now she’s got a fiance, and I get notifications that half of my friends are liking her posts and pictures and updates and they’ve been engaged for six days. She is so thankfully for her best friend, Kate, who knew about the upcoming proposal and took her out to get her nails done the day before. Jane thought she was going out to Sunday brunch with her mother, so she dressed to the 9s for it, so in all of her staged engagement photos she looks sooooooo cute. I then thought about the day someone might propose marriage to me, and how I’ll probably be wearing jeans and a Star Wars t-shirt with bright purple nail polish. My mom will love that image hanging over the mantel.

This other engagement. I actually went out on a date with the guy once. One date, and it has emotionally scarred me for life. If anyone ever wants to read the 10,000 word short story about My Date With David, I could make it available on the Kindle. He took me to an indoor trampoline facility, and then kidnapped my sunglasses and held them hostage till I agreed to go out with him again. I told him I don’t negotiate with terrorists, and that I wouldn’t go out with him again. I was willing to sacrifice my black Ray-Bans. That’s how bad the date was.

Like, two weeks after my date with him (which will live in infamy), David met this girl, and we’ll call her Kim. Kim and David fell in love like a couple of cartoon Disney characters – fast, and hard, and in like three days. Before anyone knew it, the two of them were moving in together, and buying a dog, and then they moved home to be closer to Kim’s parents, and then moved back to where I had originally met them, then both got fired from their jobs, then both got new jobs, and now they’re engaged. David whisked Kim away for a surprise romantic weekend, and when they took a walk along the beach they found an actual message in a bottle. David suggested Kim open it up, and when she did she found a message inside that read LOST AT SEA SOS WILL YOU MARRY ME and she cried, and David cried, and the hotel staff captured it all on camera. I know this because their life story has basically been uploaded to Facebook for the world to see.

Seconds after their engagement everyone and their mom mom started texting me like, “so sorry for your loss” and “you let a good one get away” and “how are you” and I was just like “someone please stab me in non-threatening location to end this agony.” Not because I was so upset losing the Man of My Dreams* but because I literally didn’t give a shit. Good for them. I’m so glad David has the time to draft up a clever proposal for the mother of his future children. Then I started thinking about how someone will probably propose to me one day, and he’ll just be like, “hey are you free for the rest of your life?” and I’ll be like, “I guess so. There’s nothing good on TV right now anyway.” And that’ll be that.

I’m really happy for you guys, I really am. I’m always happy to see that some weirdo has found another weirdo to spend the rest of their life with. It’s heartwarming. I’m not trying to belittle that, I just wish I didn’t have to see so many status updates about it. Even when I decide to hid those updates (and I click, this is spam please don’t make me look at this please.) it still somehow makes its way back into my life. I think about the aftermath of a future proposal for me, and how no one will know for a long time because I won’t expect everyone to care about my engagement. It’s only fair, considering I don’t care about yours. No one will take my engagement seriously, anyway, considering I’ll refuse to register at Crate & Barrel, and opt to make a list of things I want at Best Buy (New flatware? No. The complete box set of Sex & the City? Yes.). One day.

However, if anyone wants to talk about the amazing movie that is the Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds classic, The Proposal, I am game for that anytime.

*The cute sarcastic nickname I gave David.