My Bowl

I love this bowl. I love it for its color, it's shape and it's utility. 

You see, it's full. 

It's full of all the damns, shits, fucks and rat's asses I have left to give regarding dating.

It's completely full.

Seriously.

I'm so fucking tired of meeting nice, interesting men who seem sincere but fail to follow through on wanting to pursue anything beyond a quick cup of coffee all the while suggesting something of maybe a platonic friendship. And when I suggest a follow up get-together suddenly  they can't seem to find or make the time.

"I'd love to join you, but I'll be in Chicago that weekend." (Subsequent Facebook posts during said weekend showed he was still 15 miles from me in Los Angeles! Plus, he never got back to me on a follow-up date. Did he lie outright or was it a convenient way to avoid being direct?)

In the future when I hear the words, "Let's go out, sometime," or "I'll be in touch soon," I won't take him seriously. 

I'm serious.

Until his actions begin to match his words. 

If they ever do. 

I accept the fact I take people at their word. When people, and not just gay men, have said we'd get together soon, I believed them, and waited. And waited.

I've waited so long I'm beginning to have trust issues which is why I no longer have a damn, a shit, a fuck or a rat's ass to give. Anymore.

Perhaps that was my mistake. Trusting them all too soon. Yet, this also happens with friends, and the difference here is I know them and I know their life. Many of my friends have spouses and children, all of which take precedence over me when things come up. Life is a given. It happens.

But, when it's a 'dating' opportunity or the chance to simply make a new friend, I seem to attach more to the wording than is warranted. Perhaps it's the newness of the situation. 

I will own the fact I've done it myself. On a recent walking meditation, I happened to cross paths with a single male hiker, who seemed to be looking for more than inspiration at this nature site. After a brief conversation I asked him for his phone number suggesting we go out soon. 

Three months later I have not called him. Upon reflecting, would I really want to go out with someone I met while he was possibly looking for a quickie in the bushes? No. Yet, why did I ask for his number? Spontaneous decision? Perhaps. Loneliness? Definitely. Sex? Meh. 

The biggest difference here is that this was a chance meeting, the others were all planned, either via a social gathering, online site or some other contact. We'd had some sort of discussion or conversation prior to actually meeting.

Maybe the other men were sincere in their wanting to meet sometime soon in the somewhat distant future and/or maybe later discovered their social circle was already so full they couldn't fit one more person into it. And they walked away without letting me know. Perhaps they thought it was easiest.

Either way, their indirectness is very frustrating and hurtful.

I also want to recognize my over-intellectualizing (I like that better than 'trusting') what they actually said, may have had a bit to do with why I'm feeling so jaded.

And, I'm tired of that, too.

So,...

I am not in the mood to go dating for a while. Yet, the only way to overcome this habit of mine is to get back out there. It's a Catch-22.

But, I want to recover from this latest fracas as a good way to take care of myself.

As I shared this latest misadventure with a friend, she took my hand, calmly looked me in the eye, and said, "Darling, when were you last actively dating?"

"You mean back in the Pleistocene epoch?"

"So, this is all new to you?"

Touché.

I also shared this episode with a counselor of mine, but before he opened his mouth, I interrupted, "Yes, I said those exact words after the last dating catastrophe! I openly admit it."

He calmly smiled.

And, I'll probably say them again once or twice more before I finally meet someone who'll say, "Jeff, I do want to see you again. How does next weekend work?"

"Fine," I'll say.

And then I'll faint at his directness because I won't be expecting it.

And then I'll give him extra brownie points when I recover.

 And I'll try not to think about the upcoming weekend.