Every time I find the night too quiet and I'm tempted to post a personal ad or try to go out and meet new people, I shrug down the fleeting thought and pick up a new book to read.
Almost always, I get the comfort I want so much from many of my favorite novels and the highs and beauty of life from my favorite albums. And I rationalize, however horribly, that the less I'm around people, the less I will worry about all the social mistakes I make.
My dating history is not very good and it's hard to miss something that you've never had in the first place. And one of the very few perks of unrequited love is that, right or wrong, after you've met someone you truly like, no one else really interests you in that same way, anyway. You're fine being home on a Saturday night and you realize that with no irony or bitterness.
When you do get out there and try, no matter what your orientation, it's pretty hard to meet someone who prefers cuddling to sex, talking over a nice, long meal to hitting the club scene. As you can probably imagine, aging lesbians with really old-fashioned ideas of love and romance aren't exactly in that high a demand.
I know none of that's much of a big deal, but given how low I've been lately I am glad to be excited about anything and to still have my connection with books and music.
Most of the friends I do have are married with their own full lives and my niece is busy with so many things this school year we don't spend quite as much time as we used to together. My parents...well that's a lot shakier.
In the end, it may sound pathetic or even socially stunted, I don't know. All I know for certain is that quiet Saturday nights are fine with me and that's better than it could be...
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