The budding beginning of a new relationship is many things: luck, chemistry, physical attraction, location (location, location) but most importantly, it is timing. On the initial few dates—or, in many instances in my life, interactions, since I wasn’t much of a dater, historically—two people need to be not on the same page or even the same line but quite literally on the same word. If one person is even the tiniest little bit more attracted to the other, more enthusiastic about seeing the other person again or sleeping with the person or playing tennis with the person or whatEVER, it throws things out of balance and leaves the other person thinking, “Wow, he wants to play tennis with me WAY more than I want to play tennis with him!” Or whatever.
In other words, every incremental step that leads from two people meeting or seeing each other from across a crowded room or bumping into each other in a bar, on a subway, at a concert, in church, yes, every single second is a make-or-break moment. When that phone rings, and it’s him, you need to want to speak to him just as badly as he wants to speak with you. And conversely, if a text bings on your phone, if it isn’t a welcome bing, it’s a bad thing.
Now that there are so many ways to communicate with a person there are even more ways to fuck up the timing. Once upon a time there were phone calls. And letters. Or maybe flowers. Now you can text ONE TOO MANY TIMES! Or email them ONE TOO MANY TIMES! Or tell someone how much you really want to fuck them ONE TOO MANY TIMES and, pfft! Game over.
Since men are from Mars and women are from Venus, the chances of any communications between two people of the opposite sex being successful are iffy at best. It’s a fucking miracle anyone ever finds true love! Let us review:
First you need to meet someone. A crapshoot. You can go to a party (or a class, or a library, or an AA meeting…you get the picture) every night for a month. A year? Forever? And never meet someone who appeals to you. They might’ve just left. Or they’re in a different class. NA instead of AA. Again, you get the picture.
Once you’ve actually met someone you’re attracted to, you need to, well, DO something! Date? Dance? Fuck? Have a cup of coffee? Dance, drink, take a walk. And at every moment, neither of you can do anything to freak the other person out or scare them off.
Now, repeat step two…um, as many times as it takes for both of you to come to the conclusion that you’re in love. This does happen. To all kinds of people! Every day! It’s happened to me a number of times. And as I’ve been conducting my present search for true love, I keep reminding myself that I have, indeed, managed to find love and fall in love not once, not twice, but seven times. Which often has me thinking that I’ve used up all my luck in love.
I certainly hope I haven’t. But now that I’m, well, where I am…it’s all even more difficult. Leaving the house is harder. I do it. Repeatedly. And optimistically. But it isn’t as easy as it used to be. The places I might meet people have become more limited. I used to meet (and fuck) people I met in bars all the damn time. I don’t think I’ve met anyone new in a bar in years. I just don’t hang out in bars the way I once did. And when I am in a bar, I must not have my “Buy me a beer and I’ll suck your cock” groove on. I’ve also become considerably less inclined to drag a drunk guy home with me. And honestly, that was more or less my MO for…over a decade.
Which all adds up to why don’t I just give up? My friend Ruth’s comment on my previous blog post was: “If you find disbelief in blind dates, then why do you do it consistently and constantly?” And my response just sounds like excuses: “Spoken like a person who isn’t single! I keep doing to meet new people, most especially people outside my already considerably large world, in the hope that it might lead to, well, all sorts of things! A job, new people for my singles’ events, someone who might enjoy meeting one of my friends, who knows? The bottom line is that it couldn’t hurt! Also, it gives me more to blog about! Are these sufficient reasons?”
On bad days I fantasize about moving to a mountaintop and becoming a hermit. I know I am completely unsuited for the hermit’s life but sometimes it sounds appealing. I wouldn’t feel bad about staying home cause I wouldn’t be missing anything. Well, maybe nature. If I wasn’t meeting anyone it would be because there was no one to meet. Here I come in contact with hundreds of people a week. And I’m not falling in love with ANY of them! I must have bad timing…