Whenever the topics of relationships, girlfriends, boyfriends and “going out” come up in a conversation I’m involved in, I tend to feel a little discomforted. Someone with a boyfriend or girlfriend will get up and ask everyone in the room to raise their hands if they’re in romantic relationships of their own.

Why would this make me feel awkward? Because I’m not one of those people.

Almost immediately afterwards (comparable to the timeliness precision of a Swiss-crafted pocketwatch), some random girl in the room will walk over to me and tell me how sorry she is, after noticing that I did not raise my hand. That, or some hairy guy with an ego complex will inform me of my status as a girlfriend-less affront to the male side of the human race.

I say this in response to the sorrow-filled ladies and testosterone-pumped dudes: Please spare me your pity and your insensitive remarks. I don’t feel deserving of them, because I’m happy with my current dating scene.

After all, why should I have people expressing sentiments of compassion or criticism towards me when they learn of my girlfriend-less existence? Does it make me any less of a human being?

In the eyes of some, yes. From the view of others, no. But from my perspective, my relationship status doesn’t truly define who I am in the least.

I’m not trying to sound like the existentially-moping post-puberty kid who struggles to find the “perfect girlfriend” in secret, nor the quintessential discouraged young male adult who “rejects” women in a desperation plea for attention from those of the female persuasion; I’m trying to sound like myself.

I’m not going to claim that my life is a black abyss of infinite sadness due to my dating-free social life, and I’m definitely not trying to convey the idea that dating is for stupid people; because it’s not.

Quite frankly, I’m just “cruising along” in life, living by my own ideas, taking other people’s beliefs and reasoning into consideration, but not allowing society’s mainstream definition of a happy life govern whether or not I am worthy to walk the earth.

To mindlessly advocate either side of this issue is to take the position of the ten-year-old male dating critic: “Everybody knows that girls have cooties!”

In writing this lengthy tirade challenging the ways in which people (myself included) perceive everyday dating, I’m trying to further define where I stand on this prickly issue.

Do I fall into the role of the disenchanted yet stuck-up, arrogant “I’m-way-deeper-thinking-than-you-are” college youth by default because I’m writing a column about relationship matters?

After all, I know approximately 0.07 percent of all there is to know about relationships. I may come off as being incredibly smug and out-of-touch on the issue in some people’s regard because I’m just flying by the seat of my pants as I’m writing this. I’m about as experienced with dating as Arnold Schwarzenegger is adept at mispronouncing the name of his state’s capital city.

Or am I just misguided in my thinking? Have I really screwed myself over by not pursuing a dating life more seriously? I went to my junior prom and senior homecoming dance by myself, for whatever’s sake!

Based on the logic of some people I know, to not be in a romantic relationship is to be a kind of human equivalent to an old, decrepit television set: no one pays attention to you, you’re not very attractive, you’re all beat-up inside and David Letterman decides to push you and a bunch of your friends off of a skyscraper in New York City during his show.

This is one of the reasons why I don’t feel too good about not having a girlfriend (I don’t want some hairy guy pushing me off of a building! Have any of you seen Letterman’s beard lately?)

In saying this, I acknowledge both the good and bad experiences that can come from a romantic relationship. I guess that I just haven’t gotten around to pursuing those instinctive desires to find a dating partner (or maybe I’m just really, really ugly. Eh, who cares?).

But I do wonder about the long-term ramifications of avoiding dating. Will it render me unable to seriously date in the future? Will I even have the fortitude and courage to date at all in the future?

These questions remain unanswered, but I have figured out one thing: for the time being, I am happy with my situation in regards to dating. Don’t perceive me as a pimple-ridden World of Warcraft freak (a game which I don’t actually play), or as a mastermind-genius for not delving into the convoluted maelstrom that constitutes college dating; I’m just blazing my own trail.