I have thought a lot about what I wanted to write about next. Sex is always a great subject, and my readers may think I'm a bit obsessed with the topic, but it is just so fascinating! Think of what risks people take just to get laid... Kingdoms abdicated, presidents impeached...plus, I'm not getting much these days, so that could explain a lot. Dating is also an entertaining subject as well, and there is still so much to say about that topic, but I've reached a point where I'm just going to sound like an angry feminist on that one now. Still, I've figured out a few things recently in regard to both of those subjects, but for today I'm going right into sex. So can I be frank?
I've thought about writing about sex in a way that would lend itself to great discussion. Specifically, about sex and aging. I think about that, well, because I am aging. I talk about sex a lot because I believe with all my heart that it is the key to true emotional intimacy in a loving, committed relationship.
I went to a wedding this past weekend. I was a guest of a friend who knew both the bride and groom.
It was an interesting ceremony. Unlike anything I've witnessed before, but then, I had to think about the ages of the bride and groom. I'm not sure if it was a first time marriage for the groom, but I heard it was for the bride. She radiated happiness. She was 44. I guess she knew what she was doing. At 44, I think you know who you are and what you want. It's the young ones that get married that I want to protest when the priest says..."If anyone here objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace..." How come no one ever speaks now? I don't. I just think to myself...'suckers...
At any rate, that is not what I'm speaking about now. I had the opportunity to meet two very delightful couples that sat at our table. They were obviously older than me, somewhat older than my parents, but both couples, very youthful in appearance and in life. I watched them interact with each other. I watched how they laughed and enjoyed each other. Both couples had been previously married. Out of the four of them, at least two had been married multiple times. No one was married now, they were... 'living in sin'.
What I find very interesting about this particular generation, my dad's generation, (plus maybe a few years), are the social stigmas that no longer exist for them. The ones that existed when they were young. Let me explain...When my mother and father got married, she was pregnant. They had to get married. They couldn't live together, grow up a little and decide whether they should get married. Even if they hadn't been pregnant, they couldn't live together. That wasn't the social norm of the day. You either got married, or my mom was an unwed mother with a big scarlet letter on her chest. Oh, couples were still having sex as singles alright, but you either got caught or you didn't. It wasn't acceptable to be having unmarried sex. Obviously, not the case now.
So in just 40 years or so, things have drastically changed. These couples are not only living together, but in all likelihood, having sex. Even now. Haven't we all thought at one time or another, that our grandparents could not possibly have been having sex at their age... could they?...Ewww.....! But not only did they, but they probably did right up until they were dying and absolutely couldn't. There was a study recently that STD's in nursing homes were on the rise. Someone's getting some....
I take my hat off and bow down to them. Having reached my middle years, I not only still want to have sex, I want to have a lot of it, when I meet the right person, of course. Thank god for Viagra.
So, back to these two couples. One couple, were clearly in a new love relationship. Unmarried, and happy to be that way. Living together. They had many of the same interests, they were affectionate and clearly, at this point in time, happy they had found each other. Awwww....
The other couple, they laughed a lot together. I couldn't tell how long they had been together, but they teased and poked each other, and I could tell, they really enjoyed the fun that each brought into the relationship. It was really heartwarming to see, that at this stage of life, they were still living it to the fullest and enjoying each other. I think they have a lot of sex. I don't know for sure, but I would be willing to bet money on it. I'm definitely going to ask.
I think of my grandmother and how sometimes she would flirt shamelessly with my husband. I never minded, of course, but I would see the young woman in her, that still felt young in her spirit; young enough to still want sex. I think of myself and my own mortality these days. When you are 30 and busy raising kids, you kind of resent sex on the nights you feel exhausted and...obligated. At least I did. And it got so mundane. So routine. I would look at the clock at 11 pm and think..."I want to catch the weather at 11:15...'it can be done..." How sad is that? How true is that, for couples that have been together for so long? Why don't we take care of each other so that we have great sex, with great enjoyment and fulfillment in each other for years to come? Maybe it takes the second marriage, or the end of our lives to know and understand what it means to let go of societal expectations, and appreciate how wonderful life really is...and how great sex still is and can be. (You can laugh now, but I will probably get a lot of hits on this blog today because I keep using the word sex)
And now that sex is in short supply for me these days, I find I miss it desperately. (I guess I should have thought about this when I thought I wanted to watch the weather instead huh?) And, I think about being in a relationship, because it is in such short supply. I want what these couples seem to have found the second (or third) time around. The key will be research. (This is another place to insert a laugh.) As I sat at the table with these couples, I also sat with my friend Matthew. He and I are the perfect couple. We laugh, we talk on a very deep and emotional level. He is a perfect gentleman. He listens to me, he is kind, considerate, funny, a great dancer...for he and I, we have what I think those other couples have, except for one thing...he's gay. He is my Will and I am his Grace. If only sex wasn't an issue...
I'm going to delve deeper into this. I'm going to ask my new friend about her sex life and I'm going to find out how they met. Maybe she met him online? I'm going to find out if she feels if, at her age, she is settled and found what she wanted all along, but it just took this many years to find it? Of course, with that generation, you never know, some things may have changed, but she might just tell me it's 'none of my damn business'.... The couple that were married on Saturday? I wish them well. I think they will be fine. I think they both knew what they are getting and will be very happy. I wonder if they have very much sex? Maybe I am obsessed, something anyway....
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Running Back to Home...
Over a year ago, whenever anyone asked me what I was doing in Arizona, my answer was always, "I ran away..."
That's not how I answer that question now. Now I am working. I am writing. I have created a life. A new life. It doesn't feel like running away anymore. It feels like home. The past few weeks I have been traveling for my job, for pleasure and for personal business that can no longer be ignored. I had to go back to my hometown and take care of things I left unfinished. I've been running for sure, and now I have to go back. I've had a few moments of overwhelming sadness.
The moments of sadness are not as many anymore. They come and go. But, when they come, it slams me to the ground. I'm always surprised by it. So many people have asked me why I'm sad when I was the one who left. My kids especially don't understand the sadness. As I was driving through town, my hometown, I am swamped with memories of a life that seems like it belonged to someone else. I know every inch of that town. I have been there forever. I see the changes that it continues to make. I still drive through the town without thinking about where I am going. It is instinctual. I'm never lost, but I feel confused by the familiar.
The other day, I had my hair done at my old salon. I ran into people I haven't seen for 8 months...they seemed excited to see me, but I see the questions in their eyes they are afraid to ask. They look down at my hands to see if there is a wedding band there. They don't know what to say to me. I don't know what to say to them either, except, "I'm doing well". I speak to them as if they know my marriage ended, because while they may not know everything, they know enough. It's a small town.
The hardest part of going home is running into people. I've known so many of them for so long, they feel they deserve to know why. They are confused. They are grieving the loss of this marriage too. As I drove across the state yesterday, I thought of all the people I left behind without a word of explanation. The friends I thought were friends who turned out to be...not so much. I thought of the shock they might have felt when they heard, he and I no longer were...
I left no closure for them. I cut everyone off because I couldn't face them. I didn't know who to trust anymore. I was self-preserving. That's what I told myself. It was easier to run and pretend I was fine among strangers, than to cry and show my weakness to people I've known my whole life. And now I'm back.
I want to face the demons that still haunt me. I want to explain to people that didn't understand why. I know I don't owe anyone an explanation or justification for what happened in my life, but the need to be understood is strong. The need to defend myself and my actions hang on. I grew some thick skin, but it's uneven. Some spots are thinner and weaker. I learned who my true friends are when I left, but I also left behind those that thought I cared enough about them, to say goodbye and were hurt when I left town without a word and cut them off completely.
When you go through a divorce, you split your life in half. The things you took for granted are suddenly gone. The sadness I can't seem to explain is for the loss of a lifetime of memories that everyone remembers. It was a lifetime. My friends only knew "us". I alone, am someone they don't know anymore. Together, we were their friends. Separately, I am unfamiliar to them. Starting over in a new town is easy. I am known as Tam. I am known as myself. I am not part of a half that has always been whole. I am whole on my own.
When I went back East a few weeks ago, I realized how very homesick I was. Everything looked like home. The leaves in the oak trees, the tulips just starting to come up. The smell of cut grass. Everything was green, not brown like the desert. I ached for home. I was ready to be here. Now I am here. My heart hurts here. I feel sad here. I am afraid here. I walked into the empty house that used to be "our" home and I cry as I hear the voices of my children arguing, laughing and playing outside. I remember the holiday dinners I use to serve on the china I am boxing up. I stand on the porch and remember the summer mornings sharing coffee together before our days started. It hurts and I don't want to remember. The temptation to run again is strong. But I have things to finish. It's another hurdle I have to jump before I can move forward.
The instinct to keep running is always there. I take a break every now and then to catch my breath, but right now, I have to forge on, even though I am afraid. I refuse to be paralyzed even though my biggest fear is rejection. And so, I keep facing the demons. I sometimes wonder if it has been worth it? But with every person I run into, they smile, hug me and ask me no questions. They seem happy to see me again. My animal instincts keep me wary, but as a lover of people, I am happy to see them as well. Most of them. Has it been worth it? I think so. My life is different. It has changed a full 180 degrees. I am happier. It is foreign ground to run away to a new place. It feels familiar to go home. Scary now, but familiar. There is a country song with a line that says "Who says you can't go home?" I know that I can...I am here and I'm still alive. Now, whenever anyone asks me what I'm doing in Arizona, my answer is always....I am living!
That's not how I answer that question now. Now I am working. I am writing. I have created a life. A new life. It doesn't feel like running away anymore. It feels like home. The past few weeks I have been traveling for my job, for pleasure and for personal business that can no longer be ignored. I had to go back to my hometown and take care of things I left unfinished. I've been running for sure, and now I have to go back. I've had a few moments of overwhelming sadness.
The moments of sadness are not as many anymore. They come and go. But, when they come, it slams me to the ground. I'm always surprised by it. So many people have asked me why I'm sad when I was the one who left. My kids especially don't understand the sadness. As I was driving through town, my hometown, I am swamped with memories of a life that seems like it belonged to someone else. I know every inch of that town. I have been there forever. I see the changes that it continues to make. I still drive through the town without thinking about where I am going. It is instinctual. I'm never lost, but I feel confused by the familiar.
The other day, I had my hair done at my old salon. I ran into people I haven't seen for 8 months...they seemed excited to see me, but I see the questions in their eyes they are afraid to ask. They look down at my hands to see if there is a wedding band there. They don't know what to say to me. I don't know what to say to them either, except, "I'm doing well". I speak to them as if they know my marriage ended, because while they may not know everything, they know enough. It's a small town.
The hardest part of going home is running into people. I've known so many of them for so long, they feel they deserve to know why. They are confused. They are grieving the loss of this marriage too. As I drove across the state yesterday, I thought of all the people I left behind without a word of explanation. The friends I thought were friends who turned out to be...not so much. I thought of the shock they might have felt when they heard, he and I no longer were...
I left no closure for them. I cut everyone off because I couldn't face them. I didn't know who to trust anymore. I was self-preserving. That's what I told myself. It was easier to run and pretend I was fine among strangers, than to cry and show my weakness to people I've known my whole life. And now I'm back.
I want to face the demons that still haunt me. I want to explain to people that didn't understand why. I know I don't owe anyone an explanation or justification for what happened in my life, but the need to be understood is strong. The need to defend myself and my actions hang on. I grew some thick skin, but it's uneven. Some spots are thinner and weaker. I learned who my true friends are when I left, but I also left behind those that thought I cared enough about them, to say goodbye and were hurt when I left town without a word and cut them off completely.
When you go through a divorce, you split your life in half. The things you took for granted are suddenly gone. The sadness I can't seem to explain is for the loss of a lifetime of memories that everyone remembers. It was a lifetime. My friends only knew "us". I alone, am someone they don't know anymore. Together, we were their friends. Separately, I am unfamiliar to them. Starting over in a new town is easy. I am known as Tam. I am known as myself. I am not part of a half that has always been whole. I am whole on my own.
When I went back East a few weeks ago, I realized how very homesick I was. Everything looked like home. The leaves in the oak trees, the tulips just starting to come up. The smell of cut grass. Everything was green, not brown like the desert. I ached for home. I was ready to be here. Now I am here. My heart hurts here. I feel sad here. I am afraid here. I walked into the empty house that used to be "our" home and I cry as I hear the voices of my children arguing, laughing and playing outside. I remember the holiday dinners I use to serve on the china I am boxing up. I stand on the porch and remember the summer mornings sharing coffee together before our days started. It hurts and I don't want to remember. The temptation to run again is strong. But I have things to finish. It's another hurdle I have to jump before I can move forward.
The instinct to keep running is always there. I take a break every now and then to catch my breath, but right now, I have to forge on, even though I am afraid. I refuse to be paralyzed even though my biggest fear is rejection. And so, I keep facing the demons. I sometimes wonder if it has been worth it? But with every person I run into, they smile, hug me and ask me no questions. They seem happy to see me again. My animal instincts keep me wary, but as a lover of people, I am happy to see them as well. Most of them. Has it been worth it? I think so. My life is different. It has changed a full 180 degrees. I am happier. It is foreign ground to run away to a new place. It feels familiar to go home. Scary now, but familiar. There is a country song with a line that says "Who says you can't go home?" I know that I can...I am here and I'm still alive. Now, whenever anyone asks me what I'm doing in Arizona, my answer is always....I am living!
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The Art of Kissing Frogs....Part Two...
Tonight, as I sit here and type, I am listening to the most beautiful, romantic, Italian music. I am smitten with this artist and was only recently turned on to him in the last few weeks. I am obsessed with learning the words in Italian. I've played them so much, I'm close. Now to translate. It's not as hard as I thought it might be. Music is powerful. It fills my heart with hope and wistful yearning. I don't think I'm so different from other women, when I say, I want to be swept away. But at the same time, I am at the age where I know being "swept away" can be very intoxicating, but also leave you with a horrendous hangover if you only have feelings of passion and lust instead of a solid foundation to build on.
I lived a whole life on wistfulness, imagining, wishing for something different. We had lots of passion for many years. But it seemed the only real things we had in common were our children. I wished for someone I could have deep, philosophical, engaging conversations with. I wanted someone that could feel the pulse of my heart and want the same things I did. Someone that had a innate sense of wanting to know more of the world. Share rich experiences and adventures. Love the differences in people and celebrate life every day. When you are 20 years old and pregnant, you don't think about these things being important. All you know is...you love him. All you know is the day to day of responsibilities of working hard to pay the bills, raising children and putting your dreams on hold, because there is always something more pressing to take care of. Not necessarily more important, but, when you are being responsible and doing the right thing...everything is more important than taking care of each other.
Since separating from my husband, I've had to learn to be alone. I've always enjoyed my alone time, but actually living life alone is a whole other ball game. The loneliness comes in waves. Time is a precious commodity, but when you have too much time to fill, you get into your head more. At least I do. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing, I'm not sure, but I continually think, or (maybe obsess, is a better word) about what I am looking for in a future companion. I love the thought of having someone in my life. I hate the thought of sharing my space. I love the thought of nights of raging passion, but hate the thought of sleeping next to someone again. I love the thought of nights snuggled on the couch watching a movie with someone, but hate the thought of losing control of the TV remote. I love the thought of cooking with someone, but hate the thought it would be expected to make dinner every night. Even though there is comfort in the familiar rituals of life, is it possible to have a relationship that doesn't turn ordinary and lackluster?
I've put the online dating thing on hold for the time being. It was difficult. As I said in my last post, it was soul stealing. It's not that I don't think there are good men out there, I just think with online dating, it's too forced. You have men that are seriously looking for a lifetime relationship, and men that are looking for "a casual friend". I actually had a man turn me down after I wrote in an email, that 'I wasn't interested in getting married in the near future.' His response was, "I noticed you aren't interested in getting married. I'm actually hoping to be married within the next 6-8 months." Wow. Another one wrote me an email asking "Do I like massages"? Great, I love massages, but this is your line?
When you are lonely, you are susceptible to falling for the BS they write in their bios. At least at first......I had one recently that went through every line of my bio and analyzed, broke it down and categorized the things he felt we had in common. Flattering, but creepy. My favorite emails are the ones that can't punctuate or spell. Come on Jethro....
My favorite two stories of online dating were in the beginning. Kate tells me I made "Rookie Mistakes". (Gawd, I don't want to be a seasoned pro at this...) My very first online date was a "meet and greet" at a coffee shop. His pictures looked reasonably attractive. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew there was no chemistry, no attraction whatsoever. He didn't even have to speak. After ordering a coffee, we sat down to talk. His first mistake? He sat next to me on the couch. Like in my space bubble. He then filled my ears with banal talk about shutters and pixels, high resolution etc. He was an incessant blinker. I couldn't concentrate on a single word he said. I was too distracted by the blinking. Pretty soon, my mind was wandering...I really needed a manicure and a pedicure. Badly. Being that it was my first official date, I didn't know what protocol was on timing. I needed to stop him. I stood up abruptly and said, "I'm sorry, this isn't going to work, not now, not ever." Apparently, blunt honesty is not appreciated, but I did get in a mani and pedi.
The next date, and remember, I've only had one previous to this one, was worse. Much worse. First of all, I felt talked into it. If you remember, one of the biggest problems I've had in my relationship is my inability to say 'no', stand up for myself and say what I want. This guy, who was almost old enough to be my dad, talked me into meeting him for a coffee date. According to him, we had a 95% compatibility rating. I don't give a shit about algorhythms anymore. If I'm not attracted physically....ain't never going happen. His age was the biggest issue for me. He was too old. I know how old I am, I'm under no illusions that I'm going to be with a 30 something in a lifetime/committed relationship, but please, 65? I also know, that my choices are not what they use to be, but I still have lots of offers. Including 20 somethings. Just as I have no interest in a 20 something, I have no interest in a 60 something. I barely have interest in a 50 something. But, I digress. So yes, 65 was too old. Upon meeting him, I was completely and utterly turned off, not to mention pissed off. His photos in his bio were about 15 years old. Clearly, he was not toned and athletic as his bio said. As per protocol, we ordered coffee. I sat across from him and listened to him tell me that he had now been single, longer than he had been married and after several knee surgeries, and pressing health issues, he was at the point where he really wanted to find his lifetime partner. I'll bet. To make it even better, he (of course, they all do) brings up sex. His words were something like this: "If and when we are intimate..." okay, I don't remember the rest of the sentence. I just heard the when we are intimate part and I wanted to bolt. To make it all the more entertaining, he had the hiccups the entire time we talked. Not slightly....but, bad hiccups. I was very nice, as I always am, and told him I didn't mind if he wanted to hold his breath to try and get rid of them. I thought perhaps, he would do a slight inhale and no big deal. Oh no. He took a gigantic breath in, closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling. His entire face and ears turned purple as he held this pose for about 45 seconds. He lets out a loud exhalation and nearly blows me off my chair. Omg....what the hell was I doing there?
A few more dates like this and becoming a lesbian was a real possibility. I was discouraged, but again...loneliness won out again. I gave it another stab. I had a few decent dates, no sparks, but nice men. Then, another really bad one. I should have known by his profile name "Onion Ass" that there was something seriously wrong with him. I guess I just thought he was really sarcastically funny. I told him in an email, that I was certain I was going to hate him (thinking I was being funny) but I was intrigued by his humor.
After agreeing on a date, time and place, I show up, looking my best and as always, hopeful. He was 15 minutes late. As I got up to leave, thinking I had been stood up, my phone buzzes. It was him texting me. The text read like this: 'just jumping in the shower, 6 right? Are you scared?' Uh...I wasn't....but now? I'm fuming. I'm not waiting until 6 pm when the agreed upon time was 5. I stood up again to leave. Another buzz. "Just kidding, I'm inside at the bar". He had been watching me out the window. Creepy. I sit down again. Dumbfounded. He allows me to sit there another five minutes. Finally, I get up to leave AGAIN, and he walks through the door.
Right. Let me describe my first impression. Scruffy, unshaven, and not in the rugged, handsome way. More like the "I just got off a drinking binge and I'm hungover and didn't have time to shower and shave, unshaven way. Baseball cap, stained T-shirt, faded shorts that looked to be plaid at one time and flip flops. He couldn't look me in the eyes, as he described without stopping; his daughter in Juvenile detention for meth use, his ex-wife, who is serving time in prison for dealing meth, his DUI and time spent in Tent City, which turned out to be such a great experience because he met so many interesting people. I'll just bet. After 15 minutes of this, I put up my hand and said "STOP! You have to stop right now! You are a shitshow and I can't stay." I said that. Then I got up, paid my bill and left. A new low for me.
These are the most memorable. The ones that make you question your decision to leave. Was being married so bad? I have had moments of doubt. I've had lots of "firsts" as a single woman. First Christmas, First Thanksgiving, First Easter, First Mother's Day... by myself, not as a family. I'm learning what it is to create new memories. Writing my own history and figuring out how to do it differently; the way that isn't the "old way". It isn't easy, but it's getting easier. Meeting men in this shallow dating pool, helps you to know what your values are and what you want. But, is it out there?
I'm not ready for anything serious. What I want short term, is friendship. Companionship. Someone to share a glass of wine or a concert with. What I want long term is the same. Eventually, I will be ready to share my bed all night. But for now, I'm not. My subscription runs out at the end of this month. I won't be renewing it. Not for a while at least. The prize in the cereal box is at the bottom. It will be the last place I look, where I least expect to find it. No one keeps looking after they find something. It will come. Patience Tam.
I lived a whole life on wistfulness, imagining, wishing for something different. We had lots of passion for many years. But it seemed the only real things we had in common were our children. I wished for someone I could have deep, philosophical, engaging conversations with. I wanted someone that could feel the pulse of my heart and want the same things I did. Someone that had a innate sense of wanting to know more of the world. Share rich experiences and adventures. Love the differences in people and celebrate life every day. When you are 20 years old and pregnant, you don't think about these things being important. All you know is...you love him. All you know is the day to day of responsibilities of working hard to pay the bills, raising children and putting your dreams on hold, because there is always something more pressing to take care of. Not necessarily more important, but, when you are being responsible and doing the right thing...everything is more important than taking care of each other.
Since separating from my husband, I've had to learn to be alone. I've always enjoyed my alone time, but actually living life alone is a whole other ball game. The loneliness comes in waves. Time is a precious commodity, but when you have too much time to fill, you get into your head more. At least I do. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing, I'm not sure, but I continually think, or (maybe obsess, is a better word) about what I am looking for in a future companion. I love the thought of having someone in my life. I hate the thought of sharing my space. I love the thought of nights of raging passion, but hate the thought of sleeping next to someone again. I love the thought of nights snuggled on the couch watching a movie with someone, but hate the thought of losing control of the TV remote. I love the thought of cooking with someone, but hate the thought it would be expected to make dinner every night. Even though there is comfort in the familiar rituals of life, is it possible to have a relationship that doesn't turn ordinary and lackluster?
I've put the online dating thing on hold for the time being. It was difficult. As I said in my last post, it was soul stealing. It's not that I don't think there are good men out there, I just think with online dating, it's too forced. You have men that are seriously looking for a lifetime relationship, and men that are looking for "a casual friend". I actually had a man turn me down after I wrote in an email, that 'I wasn't interested in getting married in the near future.' His response was, "I noticed you aren't interested in getting married. I'm actually hoping to be married within the next 6-8 months." Wow. Another one wrote me an email asking "Do I like massages"? Great, I love massages, but this is your line?
When you are lonely, you are susceptible to falling for the BS they write in their bios. At least at first......I had one recently that went through every line of my bio and analyzed, broke it down and categorized the things he felt we had in common. Flattering, but creepy. My favorite emails are the ones that can't punctuate or spell. Come on Jethro....
My favorite two stories of online dating were in the beginning. Kate tells me I made "Rookie Mistakes". (Gawd, I don't want to be a seasoned pro at this...) My very first online date was a "meet and greet" at a coffee shop. His pictures looked reasonably attractive. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew there was no chemistry, no attraction whatsoever. He didn't even have to speak. After ordering a coffee, we sat down to talk. His first mistake? He sat next to me on the couch. Like in my space bubble. He then filled my ears with banal talk about shutters and pixels, high resolution etc. He was an incessant blinker. I couldn't concentrate on a single word he said. I was too distracted by the blinking. Pretty soon, my mind was wandering...I really needed a manicure and a pedicure. Badly. Being that it was my first official date, I didn't know what protocol was on timing. I needed to stop him. I stood up abruptly and said, "I'm sorry, this isn't going to work, not now, not ever." Apparently, blunt honesty is not appreciated, but I did get in a mani and pedi.
The next date, and remember, I've only had one previous to this one, was worse. Much worse. First of all, I felt talked into it. If you remember, one of the biggest problems I've had in my relationship is my inability to say 'no', stand up for myself and say what I want. This guy, who was almost old enough to be my dad, talked me into meeting him for a coffee date. According to him, we had a 95% compatibility rating. I don't give a shit about algorhythms anymore. If I'm not attracted physically....ain't never going happen. His age was the biggest issue for me. He was too old. I know how old I am, I'm under no illusions that I'm going to be with a 30 something in a lifetime/committed relationship, but please, 65? I also know, that my choices are not what they use to be, but I still have lots of offers. Including 20 somethings. Just as I have no interest in a 20 something, I have no interest in a 60 something. I barely have interest in a 50 something. But, I digress. So yes, 65 was too old. Upon meeting him, I was completely and utterly turned off, not to mention pissed off. His photos in his bio were about 15 years old. Clearly, he was not toned and athletic as his bio said. As per protocol, we ordered coffee. I sat across from him and listened to him tell me that he had now been single, longer than he had been married and after several knee surgeries, and pressing health issues, he was at the point where he really wanted to find his lifetime partner. I'll bet. To make it even better, he (of course, they all do) brings up sex. His words were something like this: "If and when we are intimate..." okay, I don't remember the rest of the sentence. I just heard the when we are intimate part and I wanted to bolt. To make it all the more entertaining, he had the hiccups the entire time we talked. Not slightly....but, bad hiccups. I was very nice, as I always am, and told him I didn't mind if he wanted to hold his breath to try and get rid of them. I thought perhaps, he would do a slight inhale and no big deal. Oh no. He took a gigantic breath in, closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling. His entire face and ears turned purple as he held this pose for about 45 seconds. He lets out a loud exhalation and nearly blows me off my chair. Omg....what the hell was I doing there?
A few more dates like this and becoming a lesbian was a real possibility. I was discouraged, but again...loneliness won out again. I gave it another stab. I had a few decent dates, no sparks, but nice men. Then, another really bad one. I should have known by his profile name "Onion Ass" that there was something seriously wrong with him. I guess I just thought he was really sarcastically funny. I told him in an email, that I was certain I was going to hate him (thinking I was being funny) but I was intrigued by his humor.
After agreeing on a date, time and place, I show up, looking my best and as always, hopeful. He was 15 minutes late. As I got up to leave, thinking I had been stood up, my phone buzzes. It was him texting me. The text read like this: 'just jumping in the shower, 6 right? Are you scared?' Uh...I wasn't....but now? I'm fuming. I'm not waiting until 6 pm when the agreed upon time was 5. I stood up again to leave. Another buzz. "Just kidding, I'm inside at the bar". He had been watching me out the window. Creepy. I sit down again. Dumbfounded. He allows me to sit there another five minutes. Finally, I get up to leave AGAIN, and he walks through the door.
Right. Let me describe my first impression. Scruffy, unshaven, and not in the rugged, handsome way. More like the "I just got off a drinking binge and I'm hungover and didn't have time to shower and shave, unshaven way. Baseball cap, stained T-shirt, faded shorts that looked to be plaid at one time and flip flops. He couldn't look me in the eyes, as he described without stopping; his daughter in Juvenile detention for meth use, his ex-wife, who is serving time in prison for dealing meth, his DUI and time spent in Tent City, which turned out to be such a great experience because he met so many interesting people. I'll just bet. After 15 minutes of this, I put up my hand and said "STOP! You have to stop right now! You are a shitshow and I can't stay." I said that. Then I got up, paid my bill and left. A new low for me.
These are the most memorable. The ones that make you question your decision to leave. Was being married so bad? I have had moments of doubt. I've had lots of "firsts" as a single woman. First Christmas, First Thanksgiving, First Easter, First Mother's Day... by myself, not as a family. I'm learning what it is to create new memories. Writing my own history and figuring out how to do it differently; the way that isn't the "old way". It isn't easy, but it's getting easier. Meeting men in this shallow dating pool, helps you to know what your values are and what you want. But, is it out there?
I'm not ready for anything serious. What I want short term, is friendship. Companionship. Someone to share a glass of wine or a concert with. What I want long term is the same. Eventually, I will be ready to share my bed all night. But for now, I'm not. My subscription runs out at the end of this month. I won't be renewing it. Not for a while at least. The prize in the cereal box is at the bottom. It will be the last place I look, where I least expect to find it. No one keeps looking after they find something. It will come. Patience Tam.
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