I am completely dyslexic with right & left. This made training as a Modern Dancer difficult. I always wondered who they kept yelling “Your left! Your LEFT!” at. Giving directions to someone driving is always fun. My friends know to watch my hands because I’ll gesture left but say right. In teaching Pilates I just tap which arm or leg I mean. Right and left just don’t stay on their own sides for me.
So when the fate of my soul mate search was boiled down to swiping left or right I was properly terrified. I have to use the buttons, heart or X. I wonder if I’ve missed out on my “one” because I hit the wrong button. There are mistaken X’s, when autopilot has taken over, but I’m not gonna pay to be able to hit that back button, though I’ve been tempted.
I miss the “old days” when it was likely that one might meet a guy “IRL” and not be forced to meet a stranger in a bar or coffee shop to do the new first date thing which is not blind but curated. Guys seem to be able to find 3-5 photos that make them look far better than they look in person. Ditto being funny and engaging in type-talk. Then you meet and it’s crickets…
And then when a really great connection (or perhaps I’m delusional?) is made I somehow inspire the guy to realize he “can’t be in a relationship right now”. Great. So glad to clear that up for you. Fuck me. And that’s not rhetorical, actually please do fuck me, because even if you’re not “relationship material” you’re the first guy in years that made me feel comfortable & safe. That was easy to talk to & made me laugh. That made me want you to touch me. And then that chemistry when you finally did. If all I can get is some quality naked time once in a while I will gladly take what I can get.
I hope that someday someone will think I’m worth it and fall in love with me, despite their baggage and mine. Just writing that I wish someone would love me feels so fucking pathetic. But it’s true. And it’s so weird that a majority of those seeking connection in the current dating scene are completely opposed to anything “serious”. Like love is something abhorrent to want. Like seeking a true connection is just lame. Too cool for that shit. Well I’m too cool to not be vulnerable. I’m too cool to be afraid of love. I have to deal with my idea that if I were somehow “better” I would have love in my life. My fear that I’m too old already, too broken, too much something and not enough something else. The fear that if I deserved it, it would have arrived by now.
I’m still, reluctantly but actively going on dates. They’ve been way too boring to even give me good material for this little cry for help I’m penning. Hopefully I’ll get some really shit dates to make my 10 followers laugh. Perhaps I’ll find someone just my kind of weird and wonderful and I’ll let vaguely reminiscent of Benedict Cumberbatch enjoy the sexless single life he seemed to be angling for when he tried to talk himself out of seeing me again. I’ll try to hold onto the feeling I had when he decided he wanted to see me again after declaring he was “opting out”. The feeling I had when he walked into my house and I looked at him with shyness and butterflies and raging arousal. I do have some charms. And you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you get what you need.