I’m With Dickhead
(Written in response to “My Aversion to Dating.”)
Wow. No, I don’t think you “sound like a dickhead.” I understand everything you’ve said so clearly. In fact, while reading, I was thinking how does she know exactly how I feel? And she expresses herself so well. Are you sure you’re only twenty? You sound very mature to me, and maybe self centered isn’t the right word. Try self caring. I’m over sixty, and I’ve always felt the way you’re feeling now. I’ve always enjoyed the first few months of a relationship more than any other time. It’s fun and exciting during that period until it gets “real.” I’m on my best behavior and so is he, and it seems that the majority of issues arise later.
I’ve been married three times and had plenty of long-term relationships which lasted from one to three years. I have always been the one to walk away. And each time I did so, I was relieved because, like you, I was already “done” before I left. Then after about six or seven months, I’d be excited about finding someone new. I liked my time alone so much that I needed time to recuperate from the last relationship. Once I went two years by myself with only a date here and there, and then I couldn’t wait until he took me home so I could be by myself again. Once I even jumped up and down and screamed with relief as soon as I walked in the door!
Five years ago, I left my third husband and knew it was time to call it quits on trying to find “the one.” Well, actually I was feeling that I had found “the one” in myself… ha! I haven’t dated at all, and I’ve been telling everyone that I am done, done. Forever done. Done forever. I absolutely love being by myself. I am never lonely. Actually, I can be really lonely (and have been) in the company of the wrong person — all three husbands. And did I tell you how great it feels to not be obligated to anyone? To not have to share a bed with someone for years that I never want to make love with? To sleep as long as I want? To never have to hear the sound of a goddamned ball game on the television? To not have to listen to a gaslighter or to one more passive aggressive word?
And besides all that, what woman in her right mind at almost seventy (shudder) would want to go out with an old man? I mean, if I had grown old with one of the three from when they were young and handsome, sure, but to start all over again with someone ancient and wrinkly with a beer belly? No thank you. I have to look at myself all the time. I don’t want to look at someone else this age, too.
So I was so excited to live out the rest of my life with myself and my adorable dog until a month ago. I met someone. I didn’t want to meet anyone. I still don’t want to know him. I was so, so happy. But now when I talk to him on the phone and when I think of him, I’m happy. I don’t want to be happy with someone. I don’t want to try it again. I don’t want to fall in love again — or in my case, for the first time. God damn it! I want to be alone!
