Once again I have managed to date someone for a fairly long period of time, not have sex with them at all, and have the relationship turn into a friendship.
The thing is, I have enough friends. I have a fabulous social circle of casual acquaintances, some very dear close friends, and a wonderful family. I'm not looking to expand the fold. Eight is more than fucking enough. Any more and I'll be able to cast the all-gay version of Yours, Mine, and Ours.
I know I should be grateful. Some people have a really hard time making friends. In fact, from the ages of six to fifteen, I was one of those people. So, okay, I give - I'm grateful. It could be way worse. At least men are still showing interest in me. I could be making new enemies instead of friends. Or have men screaming on my doorstep screaming "why don't you love me?" and leaving me 35 voice mails in the span of a couple hours like my poor, beleagured friend Earl (as if becoming an irrational, crazed stalker is somehow going to make Earl go "oh, right, I was totally wrong and I'm being stupid - let's get back together.")
I presume this is exactly what dating is like: you meet someone, you hang out, you maybe have sex, things take their course, most of the time it doesn't go anywhere... wash, rinse, repeat. Only never having dated for any length of time until the past year or so, I didn't realize this was the score.
Part of me thinks I had the right idea - shack up young and stay put and avoid all these ups and downs. How come no one warned me dating is the grown-up version of Snakes and Ladders? A few unlucky turns and you find yourself back at square one. Then again, I've enjoyed the random hot sex, the sense of possibility when I walk onto a dance floor, the freedom of only having to worry about myself that singledom offers. I've learned a lot about myself in the process. But... well, I never considered this before, but what if I am single forever? Would I be okay with that?
I'm thinking, though there would be some major pangs of loneliness involved, that it wouldn't be better or worse than being with one person for the rest of my life. Each scenario has it's own pros and cons. When I started dating the Writer, I thought, I hope this is the guy. I'm ready to settle down, have a boyfriend, have a cozy little life. As things progressed, though, I thought about what I would miss about singledom, and there were a quite a number of them.
I can see why the term is "Mr. Right:" that person you meet where everything clicks so well for both parties that any "pros" of singledom suddenly become irrelevant, foolish. Insant past. And while he's certainly a mythical creation - the single person's Santa Claus - is it so wrong that I want to believe in him.
Call me a dreamer, a defiant optimist, but I've already given up the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and Santa. I'd like to hold on to this one a little bit longer.
If there's nothing to win in the game of Snakes and Ladders, why bother playing the game in the first place?
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