Well, more so stuff like joy, but a sympathetic hug now and then would be nice.
Unfortunately here I am another year later with only a single coffee-shop encounter behind me… and the only thing I’ll say about that one is that you never want to see a 53-year-old man regress to 15. And I never want to do it again.
According to family and friends I shouldn’t be having trouble. In theory I should be able to slide right into another relationship. I’ve tried and failed to verbally explain to friends and family why it’s been so difficult, so let’s see if blogging can get the points across. And they are legion.
The best way to do this, I think, is describe the unicorn– er, woman I would seek if I were still trying:
She’d have to accept me physically. I’m admittedly not the best-looking guy, I have hair in unnecessary places, and am shorter than average. I once reached 5′ 8″ but time, gravity and job hazards cheerfully conspired to whittle an inch off of that. Women’s online dating profiles commonly set the Man Bar at 5′ 10″… even for women of 5′ 2″.
No, I’m not going to wear 3-inch lifts.
Height has been one of the biggest deal-breakers for me. I can’t get any taller. I am getting thinner, though, so I look taller at a distance. A great distance.
She’d have to deal with my age. Speaking of deal-breakers. I’m nowhere near death, but the way people act towards those of us surviving to 50 you’d think I should have already been fitted for a (small) coffin. I’ve noticed a fall-off in interest from women for men hitting 52, and it grows exponentially steeper year after year. Don’t they know that 50’s the new 30?
She’d have to be active. We wouldn’t need to enjoy the exact same pursuits, but I’m definitely not looking for a couch warmer. I like running and bowling, and I’m working on getting back into cycling. I want to keep moving though! Crazy shit hits old folks if it catches them.
She’d have to be interested in eating well. I don’t mean fanaticism, either. Heck I still stumble into pizza and barbecue joints on occasion. But I’d have to be with someone who put some emphasis on healthy eating.
If nothing else, to keep me from backsliding.
She’d have to be curious. By that I mean interested in constantly learning. Skepticism is fine, just couple it with reason and benefit-of-the-doubt. Be amazed at the world. Be pissed off that we haven’t gotten any deeper into space.
She’d have to tolerate my interests. This is a big order to fill, because I’m into a lot of things, most of them geeky. Some examples:
- Science Fiction (I’m a writer as well as reader)
- Superhero movies (mostly Marvel)
- Fixing stuff (and yes, I can, so there)
And the older I get, the more I’m drawn to those last three.
She’d have to have a great sense of humor. One of the most annoying things about online dating is encountering one generic “love to laugh” profile after another. But still, laughter is important. This pathetic article notwithstanding, I say a lot of funny shit, and I hate to see it wasted.
And on a very serious note… she’d have to agree that a God of Everything can’t be insecure. Religion has been the biggest deal-breaker of all for me. So, so many women demanding a man of god, who puts god first, yadda yadda yadda.
Ladies, if I’m with you, then YOU’RE first.
I’m assuming a god who created the universe has their shit together and doesn’t need me constantly fretting over her/him/it. I imagine god saying, “Go, do your thing, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, over here enveloping all creation. Doing my own thing, making stuff happen. Don’t concern yourself with me!”
And meaning it.
…so, by now you get the drift. I’m told I’m just too picky. Well, if wanting someone to enjoy what’s left of Life with is too picky, guilty as charged.
Just don’t try to fix me up with anyone.
I’m not really broken, I just squeak a lot.