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Seven and I met for a drink and he was unaware he faced some invisible barriers: I was still caught in an evolving and unsolved work problem while wondering what on earth to write in response to the Country Boy’s messages.
When I’d shifted my mental baggage aside to focus on Seven, I found a lot in his favour. He’s in his mid-forties, attractive enough, appears in control of his life, lives locally, is free to meet when I usually am, can hold a conversation and seems genuine in looking for someone to see occasionally.
So, why was I glad he was taking off on holiday the next day so I’d have time to think about seeing him again? I thought I was distracted by the other events of the day so I ended our meeting positively and said we’d catch up on his return.
After a few days I think the real reason for my reluctance is that something is missing. I let my mind wander to find the reason — the grain-of-sand-in-the-eye niggle that I was looking for — and I just couldn’t find it.
Later, I was engaging in more benign and unrelated activities (eating an icecream, perhaps) and the answer came: I didn’t experience much lust when in front of him. I am casting my mind back to see if there’s been a man I’ve found attractive enough and given a chance for lust and desire to grow, but I can’t think of anyone except SL (which didn’t end well). Another part of me says this side of my life is grounded in pleasure and lust is an essential component that shouldn’t require self bargaining.
I don’t know if I’m thinking fairly or being too fussy on this occasion.
There is no secret that I feel a tiny bit anxious and perhaps even a tad stressed when looking for a new lover.
I was doing something benign and unrelated the other night – probably brushing my teeth – and the thought occurred that I was looking forward to meeting someone. The thought wasn’t bound with conditions or doubts; it was just a clean and clear flash of hope with a trail of warming optimism. I must have been brushing my teeth as I then remembered looking in the mirror to make sure I was still myself.
Of course, things changed the next day.
In less than 10 minutes I decided to meet Seven, I sent The Drummer a message to let him know I was organising a drink for that night and, oh, the Country Boy sent a message or five. He leaves me be for several weeks when I want to know what happened and then lucks on the precise time I organise to meet someone else. I have upgraded the firmware on my phone and text messages now scroll line-by-line at the top without opening them; the downside of this nifty feature was that I could see an essay of the last few weeks’ happenings unfolding, together with a never-ending editorial about how I had failed him. Each line brought me closer to tears but I quickly confirmed drinks with Seven before I could change my mind and throw the damn phone in the bin.
I read the Country Boy’s messages properly: his horror year continued with a family emergency on Christmas Eve and it was the first Christmas Day without the family member who passed away recently. Once presents were opened and lunch was cleared, he appeared to have drunk himself into trying not to care any more.
He was upset with me for breaking my agreement to take it easy on each other and he said any meaning behind his absences was in my head only. He concluded by saying if I meet another man interested in a threesome, he’d like to participate (I don’t know where that came from).
I replied later that night to address some of his points and I also said it was too early for me to consider his request to stay in in contact. He came across as immature and still feeling sorry for himself at times and I need to maintain distance until we are more resilient. I would never tell him what to do but I think he needs to look for and meet other women when he’s ready, not for me to rub in how fantastic and suitable I am by comparison (although I have to admit that would be my ideal outcome), but maybe there is someone else who is content with what he can give.
To return to the initial point of this post, I met Seven for a drink that night and will write about that next time.
Five
Only weeks ago The Drummer and I debated about a television documentary featuring a prostitute who provided services for disabled clients. His view was that she was undertaking a valuable service for members of the community who might face difficulties meeting others; mine was that she was selling a service like any other sex worker and by lauding her are we showing how patronising we can be towards disabled people? Thinking about this in detail raises many other views and biases: the truth probably lies elsewhere as neither of us has experience being or living with a physically disabled person.
I was given the opportunity to eat my words or live by my conviction when I read the profile of a man in a wheelchair. On the positive side, he’s local, of a similar age, I find him attractive from his photos and his profile reads as someone who has a positive attitude and knows what he’s about. On the cautious side, my mind wandered to how the logistics might work if we ended up meeting and liking each other. He has lived a full and active life but his profile didn’t go into detail about being able to drive, his living situation or the sexual side – nothing he should feel compelled to tell the world in a profile, of course, but I’m curious as there are unusual considerations and I don’t enter into anything lightly.
He accepted my contact request and sent a message saying he was looking forward to talking more. I responded and we’ve exchanged a few more brief messages but haven’t been online at the same time. I have sent him a note asking if organising a time would be easier, but he hasn’t been online for a week.
Six
A contact request was waiting for me from someone who sounded familiar. Very tall, thin, divorced, located in a suburb where I’d met someone before, oh, hang on … I scrolled to the photos at the bottom and it was indeed SL, who I met last year and never returned my last message after we had sex. In a fit of indignation I blocked his little white arse off the face of the earth, but I then settled and thought I should have added the request so I could send some blunt feedback. I wonder if he had forgotten me that quickly or, whatever, I need to let it go.
Seven
He sent a contact request when I was online and we chatted for a while. I haven’t felt this comfortable chatting to anyone else and we had the right balance of fielding background questions and engaging in playful conversation. He sent a follow-up text message after I gave him his phone number and things were proceeding smoothly, however, there are just little hints of inconsistency that don’t mean much individually but could add up to him being too smooth an operator. Another part of me would prefer not to get involved again with someone attached, which might be making me look for fault with him.
I don’t know. He’s going on holidays at the end of the week so I might have a couple of weeks to form a definite opinion.
Eight
He met the usual wish list and had ‘separated’ checked as his relationship status. I added him and he wrote a note thanking me because it was hard to meet women who wanted to spend time with a married man. Heh? I re-read his profile and the text implied strongly that he was not in a relationship. I knew he had lied about his status, but I sent an innocently worded message asking if he was separated and had so recently re-united that perhaps he hadn’t updated his profile, or maybe he was lying to me and not given me the choice to make a decision based on reality? I hope I don’t receive a response.
It’s less about his relationship status and more about taking away my ability to make a decision with accurate information.
The first days of being on the sleazy free site again is both liberating with freedom and opportunity and depressing with its falsities and let-downs.
I found a button, though, to click and lock down the age and location brackets so no one more than a decade either way in age or more than 30km can contact me. This pleases me somewhat — I still have to find and filter unsuitable men but at least not waste time on the far-away and barely-legal ones.
I have discovered some odd new rules that help me sort contact requests: I say no to those looking for women up to 15 years younger but no more than a year older (I know it’s their choice and preference but something about the lop-sidedness makes me uncomfortable). I instantly block anyone saying “I don’t know what women here are looking for” or other negative statements (searching is difficult enough without overcoming bitterness before getting to know someone) and anyone with a profile using the word ‘fun’ more than once is discarded as seeking a quick fuck-and-run. I know I am getting older and the group of suitable men is shrinking but I will wait for someone where interaction feels comfortable and open.
One
We chatted for a while and the topics become more adult-oriented without going too far. I was feeling comfortable and we exchanged phone numbers so I sent him a text messsage later in the day to touch base. Two days later he replied with a brief and vague message; I responded and didn’t hear back.
A couple of days later I deleted him from my contact list and received a phone call and text message within 15 minutes asking why I had done that and if I still wanted to catch up. I said no because I thought he had lost interest — he texted a couple more times and I didn’t reply. Interested people show interest and don’t wait for drama.
Two
I sent him a contact request and we chatted for a while. I can’t work him out because he told me several of his secret places for misbehaviour and asked me out on new year’s eve without meeting beforehand, and then he gave me his number and said he never did that and I needed to be discreet. He’s intriguing but I think I’m too jaded to sort out if he’s open-minded and quickly trusting of me or a rampaging sleazebag trying to pretend he’s innocent.
Three
He approached but the only wording in his profile was “I DON’T REVEAL PERSONAL DETAILS ONLINE.” What the fuck?
Four
I added him as a contact and he opened with a question about my open relationship status. I explained and he said, “Why would you do that to someone you say you love?” Things went downhill quickly and he bid me, “Good buy.” I felt a bitter thrill that he couldn’t spell a three-letter word while making a grand statement of a departure.
As usual, this may take some time.
I started this post in the week prior to Christmas and kept adding to it. It’s up to date now, unfortunately.
I’m reading between the lines of his alternating enthusiasm and absences that he’s again struggling with grief, unsustainable working hours and other pressures that are pushing him back into a depressive hole. One day he’s promising to catch up, the next he’s forgetting to cancel and leaving me angry, and I haven’t been shy in telling him how his self-absorbed behaviour has affected my planning. Something was invariably going to snap because at the moment I don’t have the inner resources to be his stabiliser.
He sent a long and rambling message that I should again consider someone who is more available and reliable, but he didn’t end things or reach any kind of conclusion. I could sense from his up-and-down pattern that this message was coming, but I was angry before all else that he seemed to be leaving the decision to me. I wrote back with some thoughts and stubbornly didn’t offer which way I was leaning. He fired up at my suggestion that perhaps he should seek someone else who doesn’t want much of his time – it wasn’t my fairest fighting, but I hope it stops him saying what’s best for me.
We agreed to sleep on it. I want to keep seeing him and work through this ongoing rough period, but I’m wary as his return to normal life has no end date at this stage. I am equally tempted to pull up stumps and tell him to leave me alone as I can’t deal with the upheaval again, but I know after a few days’ relaxation both of us will probably regret rash actions. However, if we keep limping along, our holiday rest might make everything artificially salvageable until he is thrown back into his overloaded routine.
I’m happy to enter battle as I’m harbouring a lot of work and seasonal tension that wants an outlet, but I have no idea what I want to fight for or against. I am going to wait for him to make the call.
Postscript: I softened and he softened and we agreed to take it easy on each other during our holidays. I sent him a message a couple of days prior to Christmas and hadn’t heard back by Boxing Day, so I sent a message saying I could deal with challenges but not a lack of communication so I would leave him in peace again. He didn’t reply and I still wonder what happened.
My sense of observation is usually crystal clear when reading other blogs and knowing when people’s attempts at re-uniting won’t work, but I ignored the signals in my own situation. We weren’t going to last long if the circumstances causing our problems weren’t resolved so I set myself up for failure again and let hope overrule logic. I will never say no in the future if he is organised and stable but I think I would probably feel guilty for not supporting him more at this time. Regardless, I need to deal with the current situation and move on.
I don’t have any posts in my draft pile so things might be quiet here for a while. I’m not in the mood to do my annual review or things I’d like to do in the coming year (‘not make too many mistakes’ and ‘find someone nice’ hardly comprises a list).
