I’ll just say it. No, I need to say it. Dating after the age of 25 sucks. Dating when you are nearly 40, sucks even more.
I had no idea I was this emotional. Like most days I find myself on the verge of actual tears. Why?
While, to the best of my knowledge, I have not been on a date with a married man, I pretty much 100% concur with Meredith Gray. Men – and their stupid penises.
So clearly the dating game has not been my favorite game this past year. I met a great guy, we clicked in the way movies are made about and novels are written about. I don’t click easily with people. With him I clicked so easily. And then his crazy ex started hauling back into court multiple times a month to sue for more child support, less visitation, more alimony….whatever she could think of. And his life was consumed by it. And before you know it, he’s moved to a new town in a new state and I’m not even on the radar to tell about it.
Then I meet the guy that’s the perfect match on paper. We are both intellectuals. We are both single, never married. We both love teaching (different things, but still). We share very similar political and religious beliefs. Check that box. Cross of the next item on the list. We are having fun together. We are emailing pretty much every day (long, involved emails). And then he doesn’t have time, he needs to focus on the projects he has undertaken at home. I call him on his shit. He’s breaking up with me and just doesn’t want to say it. At least he admitted he was being a less than ideal human for doing it over email after saying he was making plans for us to spend time together that weekend. What a way to ring in 2018. Ugh.
Some time goes by and I’ve started up a pleasant online chat with a more local guy. He seems a good balance between the two previous guys. We share our faith but he also enjoys being a bit more flirty and fun with his conversation. He makes me smile and laugh. But then he gets into a car accident. He wants to get healed up before we meet. OK. I get that. Good first impression and all. We keep talking. We keep having fun. But he stops answering the serious questions and only acknowledges the flirty ones. And when I call him on it, when I tell him that I’m not interested in being free, interactive online porn for him….crickets. Fucking nothing.
I hate dating. I hate it so much right now. Whoever said this was fun should be locked away. It’s ambiguity and angst. It’s overthinking and overanalyzing. It’s trying to be yourself while also trying to impress another person. It’s being forced to be hyper aware of every single, tiny, miniscule little flaw in your personality, habits, and life. It’s desperately wanting to be seen and accepted for who you are and being reminded again and again that who you are, isn’t good enough. It’s getting your hopes up just in time to have them smashed into bits and pieces again.
Good, if teenagers are trying to figure all of this out, no wonder they act so damn insane all the time. I feel like I’m going crazy and I’m supposed to be mature and responsible and able to handle all this shit.