They say that doing the same thing and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. Indeed. Dating in hopes of finding love is clearly insane.
Except it seems to work for almost everyone. Except me. I’m clearly the problem. I can try to blame the men but it’s obvious that I’m the problem.
I’m 45. I’ve been single for years and years. I’m obviously just completely unlovable.
So, now I get to find joy in my life alone. Great.
Except, it’s not really that joyous, being alone, all the time. I’ve always been fine alone. But looking at my life, maybe another 40 years of being alone, this alone, it’s not a joyful feeling.
But I can’t continue hoping to find love, for love to find me. It’s not looking for me. I’m not the one for anyone.
Supposedly when you give up is when the things you want finally come to you. So, guys will be beating down my door any day now. Right.
I don’t know how to write a dating blog when my dating life has dried up. I don’t know how to laugh about how unlovable and untouchable I am. I guess it was good while it lasted.
Maybe I’ll find inspiration and continue. Maybe I’ll take up knitting. Maybe I’ll start a line of stylish spinster elastic waistband pants. But hoping that maybe I’ll meet a great man and get to have a life filled with companionship,fun, love, that hope is just dead. I guess I’ll dream of getting a cat. Maybe that one could happen someday. Then my spinsterhood will be complete.