As most of you know, I started this blog dating like mad. Carefree. Phun.
What a bunch of crap.
I mean, it might have been okay if I’d had a staff of eight to procure a never-ending stream of mens. I don’t mind gazing into the eyes of a perfect stranger and transferring all my notions of love and romance onto them for the evening. It can be a hoot. But everything that leads up to even one date with one person I can stand who can stand me back for even one night…exhausting.
I wasn’t dating to find true love, for that would have just been too sad to contemplate. For true love I have learned to turn inward, or to my friends, family and children. Everyone knows that true love comes along, bam, when you least expect it. I was just dating for company and snuggles. I like to smooch and look up at the sky. Don’t we all, even us single folks?
A person I am imprinted on more than I should be said to me recently, “A woman of your caliber shouldn’t be alone.” Feel free to add “in bed” to the end of that sentence because that is all we were talking about. I was alone in bed. Anyhoo, that assertion made me tear up like a river runs through it. Not because I was alone (in bed) either…
The reason I got all insta-emo is that it hit me like a ton of bricks that a woman of my substance and place in life (hard-earned so I am not going to mince words…I am as good as I get) sometimes MUST be alone.
I MUST be alone when to be anything else would be far worse.
Which brings me to the next level of truth-gathering and telling… what is it I really want? What does my heart want most stuck in it’s feathery dream-catcher web?
Lucky, this time around I am feeling completely happy and fine with no one. (Not pretending, it’s real) No one feels way better than even the idea of anyone does at this point, and not even in a sad way. Alone, I can wake up with a clear head, no plans and do whatevs on a Saturday morning. Whatevs!
I can’t even think of dating at all, because it would surely mess that up.
But if I were to dream about a partner here is what he would need to be: fun and light, deep and secure…a person to touch and check-in with….someone to light the candles when we’ve cleared our plates…and since I have a big plate to clear most days, I’d like someone busy with their own full plate, too…but someone who knows how to get down and chillax to the bone…smart, kind and accepting of me….someone with a talent that I can admire because I like being bowled over by another’s genius….a true friend who stays friendly and doesn’t turn on me, project onto me, blame me, grow impatient with me or my dogs…an effin saint…since I am an angel, in the right eyes….someone flirty and handsome in his own eyes….someone I can look at for hours, or glance over at quickly…that guy….
If I had the staff of eight, I might not mind a date here or there because occasionally someone comes along who holds all that promise. I have met a few who can keep it going for a short time, at least long enough to get them in my phone book.
But what has changed is that it isn’t that important to me anymore. I am not willing to devote the time it takes to sit across a table attempting to make magic. This life is magic enough already. And when you try to make magic and end up holding a can of sardines it is just soul-crushing. Ask me how I know. I am a master at seeing rainbows and unicorns for no good reason. I have handled plenty of fish.
I am currently in bed alone peeing with excitement to have arrived at this place. People say you gotta be happy to attract the right person which I always found dumb because the only people who are willing to actively search are people who think they would be happier with someone. I only did it when I was ultra-lonely and wanted a warm body pronto. And there is nothing wrong with wanting that. It’s just that when I want that not having it usually makes me nuts, not happy. So when I am “looking” I am not deliriously content or anything. I’m a bundle of need and unmet desire. Independent, always, but ready to suction cup myself onto anyone partway decent for a rodeo or two.
Here’s the rub. When you are really happy and in a great place you don’t think, “Woah, I would be so much happier with someone.” You think “Gah, another person would really mess this up.” It’s the opposite – you want to keep the dating world and romance at arm’s length.
This post is really for people who have raised their kids or who don’t want a(nother) family. We can afford to stare at our navels, solo, so long as we like the view. When your biological clock is ticking or you need a mate you gotta do the dance, but those of us who have done that already don’t have to. It’s a choice.
Ironically, it took a really nice interlude with Dave to cure me of my loneliness. I had a warm run of companionship but I’m good now. I have a house to remodel, a shitload of hobbies and a bunch of friends I want to see, but can never seem to hook up with (now, maybe?). I have one muse whom I text as often as I like so as not to lose touch with my sexy. He’s the guy who called me being in bed alone a shame. Yeah, I know, but I’m smiling over here. Smiling through those tears.
And don’t worry….when I get lonely as a sparrow I will tweet it out and get me some dates. I’m sure this kind of content is just another phase, but for now, I’ll take it!