So this weekend, I passed up an invitation to go to MFTD's daughter's 2nd Year birthday party. I told him why. He seemed to take it well. Hopefully he had seen this coming for a little while. I passed on his Thanksgiving invite, and I went to his Christmas invite, but only with a friend. So here came this other event, and this time I fessed up.
All those people who are someone else's family. Surrounded by all of them and trying to keep the gameface on so that I don't make them uncomfortable. Trying my best to enjoy the morsels that there is to enjoy and ignore the parts that make me ache.
Jealousy isn't even so much the factor. It's more about the absence of sound that I experience when I'm driving away from the festivities. It's grown more than I want to wrestle with.
So ... re-open an account on Match, right? Or do an eHarmony and see what lies there.
I don't know. I feel confident, capable, and attractive when I get the opportunity to. Then something goes wrong that I'm oblivious to. Something doesn't pan, doesn't connect, doesn't jibe. I'm missing an ingredient. Almost perfect except for a pinch of--?
This weekend will be New York's Geek Fest. I will be colliding with the men behind the voices of the podcasts that I listen to. And they will get to meet me, who's messageboard posts have been entertaining them all the livelong day. We shall have smiles and laughs, we shall share groans and foodstuffs, and they will be getting their drink on while I sip my water, diet soda, or some high-sugar beverage. And when the weekend ends, they will be heading back to their wives, kids, and houses while the silence returns to me ringing louder than it did before the weekend began.
I think I have a few friends that I have found out of this bunch. Friends who I've not allowed all the way in. I did let Former Pastor in from this crowd, but not all the way. I mean, I made as full a disclosure to him as I have to anyone who reads this blog, but--I haven't taken full opportunity to enjoy his friendship. I feel like a girl who is keeping a well-meaning guy at arm's length because she doesn't want there to be any misconceptions to form--more than they may already have.
Sure, at the end of the day, a hug and a kiss would be nice from anyone, but then there's the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. If I would ever decide to be gay, it won't be for temporary comfort. It would be a lifetime commitment. And the person I'd be gay for would have to be ready to keep me. The sacrifice is too great for some jive, temporary bullsh!t. And since even my own self is not enough of a person for me to go gay for, I'm not putting it out there to find this hypothetical someone else. It would have to be someone I already know and trust, coming out of their closet and bonding with me in the same fear that I have. And even then there might never be any sex. Because I've heard that anal penetration HURTS. And I've heard that from the PROS. And Alan don't like no pain. Nor do I like the smell of poop, which hey--if you dig something hand-deep into an anus and tell me you won't hit "gold" and I wil have to call you a liar right to your face. If there's a way to prevent it, I don't even care. The whole topic of poop is as off-putting as a three-day old corpse in June. Penis plus vagina seems to be the safest bet as far as I'm concerned, and I don't care WHAT genders are involved.
So, yeah I'm alone still. Maybe I deserve it for criticizing people's sexuality when they haven't even chosen to be the way they are. Maybe that's the price I pay for being such a bastard. But hey, guys cut me some slack. I'm paying that same price too. I didn't get to be a 44-year old virgin by being a well-adjusted bigot.
So you can tell, this post is a blog to process some feelings. My need for community. For a friend that I get to actually keep. For a life.
And I may just blog like this again because I'll still need to.
And you guys are welcome to avoid me for a while until I can make you laugh and smile again.
But I sure wish you wouldn't.