Dubious Dating

Next month (September) is the two year anniversary of me being made inexplicably and undeniably single. By Facebook DM no less. I was sixty nine (which in some instances is a pleasurable position, but not a pleasurable age). I’m now seventy one.

At seventy one it’s as easy to find a partner as it is a mare’s nest or hen’s teeth. Then, of course, as you’ve been with your (now ex) partner for an inordinate amount of time you remain in the love-hate duality for far longer than is comfortable. When you are ultimately re-rejected with your protests of love falling not on deaf ears but eyes incapable of seeing your perspective, the shocking fact hits you like a large elephant previously in a room somewhere, that you, that is I, will be single until the maker and worms call.

I never did like online dating but, there again, the choice that I made which didn’t include online dating was no better, as that choice left me stupidly single after nearly nine years.

With dating online it all boils down to honesty. Are the photos real and recent? Are the facts, and especially the figures honest? Does that person actually exist or is she integral to a scam aiming to part you with your money? This last I can attest to. She was neither real nor honest, and maybe not a she at all. Worse still are those who suddenly disappear after showing such promise.

Dating itself is hazardous and full of pitfalls. When your date arrives late, obviously much older than her online photos and displaying dubious ethics and prejudices which leave an uncomfortable atmosphere, then comes the doubt about the whole ‘I must get back out there’ scenario.

I don’t think that it is too much to ask to want a partner. To have someone to talk and share with, laugh at jokes and complain about the weather with. But, there again it has been two years, so yes, maybe it is too much to ask.

As I watch the Martin Short and Steve Martin characters in Only Murders in the Building I wonder, is this my destiny now? Will I end up like Dirk Bogarde in Death in Venice, admiring a beauty beyond reach? It seems likely, doesn’t it.