“I know, look at me, I’m hideous! Do you think I want to be this way? A freak!?” – Arlen Crane, “Guyver 2: Dark Hero”
Just like that, another year has come and gone. 2016 in particular will be one which may live in infamy for many of us. Many talented musicians, actors, and other celebrities departed this year, as well as the craziest Presidential election in ages. For me personally, it was a very strange year. I ended last year feeling that perhaps I would make a stand in my dating life this time. That something pivotal would happen, or could happen. That I was fighting a battle against time and it would be one of my last years to even attempt to reenter the dating world and garner any kind of success.
It seemed that even the desire to do so opened up the floodgates of fate. My job went through a drastic restructuring, and I had to focus on either readjusting or finding a new gig. I also suffered a knee injury which resulted in some recovery time for most of the summer. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and overall, I was lucky. The only reminder is a scar. I suppose if a woman ever asked, I could lie and say I got it in some bad ass manly incident. But maybe that’s thinking ahead of myself, as I am wont to do.
I began the year engaged in discussion with the ex of one of my best friends, trying to simultaneously bolster her own confidence and emotional needs while wondering when or if I could seek to ask her out. Opportunities don’t come up very often, do they? In the end she said she would take a break for her sanity…before getting in hot and heavy with some dapper dude she met. It didn’t help that she was looking for something permanent and long term, while I am the very definition of wanting to make up for lost time. It’s fair game to go after a woman who may want to settle down, but who hasn’t made such a thing bluntly known. It’s quite another to know that and pursue her for less than matrimony. At any rate, I ended the year debating whether I should take up my mother’s older horny friend on her painfully obvious desire to sleep with me in pursuit of her own fetish. I learned, or at least relearned, that my desire to lose my virginity is not an absolute zero sum game. I drew the line at wanting to sleep with someone I had no physical, emotional, or intellectual desire for simply because it was offered. I suppose it means I have integrity, but that and two bucks won’t get me on a bus.
In fact, this entire blog is an experiment. After another morose night around July 2014, I decided to get out some of my unresolved or repressed feelings and memories regarding my own lack of a love life. I’d tried to do so privately via a Word file that only I would read, but I never typed so much as a sentence. Somehow, the blog structure, under an anonymous name, with others reading it (whether a handful or dozens, or even hundreds) managed to get me to actually put fingers to keyboard. The addition of an audience, or at least a potential one, somehow got me to express some of these feelings in as honest a way as I could. My grandfather was a writer and lecturer; writing’s in my blood. Of course, he was also a bad ass merchant marine during WWII who literally run away to join the circus as a boy. It seems the more I learn about my family roots, the more I learn what a stiff I am. Everyone, even my mother to a degree, has had awesome adventures or exciting moments in their life. I’ve got nothing. I almost got run over a few times by cars as a youth, that’s pretty much it. Maybe if I had had that sort of life, even though my mother naturally raised me to not have to, I would have had the confidence needed to be attractive.
I’ve had a lot of time to reflect upon all of my past posted failures with women. And simply knowing that this is a “safe space” for me has helped. Any time I am really feeling depressed, or some incident has really gotten to me, I can type up a post here. Having that is a safety net which I didn’t have prior to 2014. It means a lot, especially all of the cool people who comment all the time. Usually this time of year is the peak of my depression, and this year hasn’t been so bad. Not that I am upbeat about the holidays or 2017, I simply haven’t felt as bad as I often do from October to March. Being consistently busy helped, but so has having this outlet.
I don’t do resolutions, and having some expectation or urgency to make a decision on my dating life last year didn’t help. If anything, the universe has spoken; just the mere inkling of wanting to dive into the world of dating again was followed up with economic uncertainly and a very physical and bloody injury. I am fighting a battle against time, where my years of vitality or ability to attract a lover who is potentially under 60 is growing more narrow. Now it comes down to whether I want to heed the universe’s warning or defy it. It would make it easier if I had any reasonable expectation for positive success, but I do not. I would have to act in the face of nothing but a history of failure, frustration, adversity, and misery, at a time when the stakes are far higher than they would have been in high school or college. I haven’t had it in me in the past, when I was younger and had less to lose. I don’t know if I have it in me now. I know it will be an emotional gauntlet which will drain some of my finite resources and spare time, with no reasonable expectation of success. I don’t know if I am game for that. My desire to not be alone would have to override my self preservation. Not being actively miserable isn’t the same as being happy or content, but it’s close enough for me.
I don’t welcome new years; I brace for them. In a few days 2016 will be no more, and a new year of potential horror, wonderment, or both will arrive. I’m sure some new adventures for me will arise for me to blog about, I just don’t know about them yet. Thanks for reading along with me for all this time, everyone! I hope to fill more posts for you full of my usual angst, opinions, and foibles with women next year. I would like very much to no longer be this way, to not have to be stuck with what seems are bad options or no options, or to be able to turn back the hands of time. But I can’t. The most I can do is move on, or onward.