“Love Is A Battlefield” -photo by Summer Olsson (with all due respect to the brave people who have *actually* served)
Third in a series. Click here for Part 1, about how I’m using a hookup app to find husband material (and read about my sordid dating history), click here for Part 2, where I learn a life lesson from my worst date ever. Here’s Part 4, where I put forth that age is just number, until it isn’t.
I’ve been pretty happy that this series found such a huge audience, and that it has connected with a lot of people. Thanks so much for the “likes” and shares. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy for putting these thoughts out there. Also, thanks to this series, I’m going to be a regular contributor to QBlog, Portland’s LGBTQ Community Center’s online resource…and other big stuff is in the works. Nope, BLCKSMTH isn’t gonna turn into a singles-advice blog, it’s still about my journey to become a writer, painter, set designer, and interior designer. But in the meantime:
It’s about damn time us single people gave ourselves some credit. I mean, we’re out there on the front lines of this battlefield, right? We’re the ones dating people with questionable hygiene, shaking off every unreturned text, and grimacing through every wedding invitation. No, I’m not going to pretend it’s some noble higher calling, this singledom. It’s not that big a deal in the scheme of things. It’s not Syria. If you’re reading this, you probably have it pretty good. We should all practice being a bit more grateful for what we’ve got. Haha, just kidding, the barista got my americano wrong this morning so I shouted “Steam this, you pissy bitch!” and threw my hot coffee in his pretty mustachioed face. And what does “banned for life” really mean anyway?
For a while my theory was that I had a weird form of invisible leprosy that only other single guys could see. I have quirks and idiosyncrasies, just like everyone else. I’m afraid to hear my own heartbeat. Every time I hear the phrase “underwear bomb” on NPR I giggle. And I sometimes (often) pretend I didn’t hear what you were saying, just so I can buy myself time to come up with a more thoughtful or funny response. Recently, though, I looked even deeper to see what really makes me tick, what really gets me going when I’m attracted to someone, and maybe why things don’t work out in the end. I don’t know what I expected to find, but it wasn’t the dark, foul-tasting thing I eventually uncovered. And then every friend who is single, gay or straight, who I told about it nodded and grimaced: they felt the same way. Bear with me while I set the table for you: Continue reading