Suck it, everyone who tried to tell me that marriage won’t make me feel better.
And if tonight happened but I was younger, I would be more optimistic. Each ticking of the clock’s hand wouldn’t cut me quite so deeply as I march on toward a lonely cemetery plot. I wouldn’t feel like every cute girl I failed to approach was the one who got away, while my hair grays and my muscles atrophy into dust.
That happened tonight at the gym, actually. She was wearing Chucks like mine, so I figured I had a conversation opener, but then we kept missing each other. She headed for the cardio area as I went to the free weights, then we’d swap. There was never the prime opportunity to strike.
I held the door for Yoga-Pants-and-Sports-Bra as we exited, asking her if she had a good workout.
“Yes, what about you?” replied YPaSB without breaking her stride.
“Good.” I hung my head, realizing she wasn’t keen on chatting, and moped my way to my beautiful convertible Mustang which, evidently, I would NOT be sharing with Yoga-Pants-and-Sports-Bra tonight.
It’s not fun having your body shrivel up while your soul thirsts for intimacy.
It’s not fun having people tell me that I’ll find the right one, or, just stop trying so hard to find her and that’s when God will bring her into your—(I couldn’t finish the sentence without physically gagging).
I also get told (surprisingly? unsurprisingly?) to just go out and have sex already! I mean, sure, I’ve waited this long; may as well just throw it all away now.
It’s also not fun to be told, you’re not THAT old. Because after 29 years of swings and misses, it gets a little tiring. Realistically, maybe 11 years of really trying, but still. If you can’t succeed at a task after more than a decade, it may be time to reevaluate your methods.
Nevertheless, I remain optimistic.
Or at least, that’s what I tell myself in the mirror every day as I examine my shell of a torso which used to have a higher quantity of abs and a lower quantity of gray hairs.
“Get optimistic,” I grunt to my reflection through gritted teeth and fierce, saggy old eyes. “Get out there and kill it! You look good. You can do it. Don’t you cry on me now.”
Some days it works.