A couple of weeks ago I reactivated my account on Coffee Meets Bagel, a dating app. After a few days of interaction, the same thing happened that caused me to shut down that account in the first place: no new ‘bagels’ for me to check out.
So last week I downloaded and created a new account on Match.com’s phone app. About a day later my mailbox had about a dozen or so ‘likes’ and messages from some women, but of course they want you to subscribe in order to find out who they are or read the messages, and frankly I’m wary of that, because this same thing happened on eHarmony, I think, and it was bullshit, there were no actual messages, and the ones who did ‘like’ my profile never responded to messages that I sent.
I promptly shut down the Match.com account.
It always happens around the holidays: I get some hair up my nose or bug up my ass to go find possible companionship, even though I’m fine being alone for a good 9-10 months out of the year. This year was no different.
But this time I’m questioning myself about what it is that I want right now. Do I actually fear the idea of being in a relationship? Have I finally convinced myself that I am no longer boyfriend/husband/father material?
I believe I answered that a while back when I said that I was broken. Broken in that I’m not a dateable person anymore. I think I stopped being that a while ago. I’m good at being an uncle, but the idea of having my own kids, especially at my age, is not something I think I could be good at anymore.
The last time I dated someone was in 2010. That was the girl who I met at a screening of Indiana Jones films, who suggested going to a comic book store during our first actual date, and who I couldn’t keep a relationship going, even with our common interests.
I think I am scared.
Scared to inflict myself on another person. Scared to open myself up to another person. Scared to share myself with another person.
I’m going to be 50 next year. My plans for the year, especially for my birthday, are totally up in the air. For the past 30 years or so I’ve spent my birthday with friends and family in a myriad of venues. And I am forever appreciative for that.
The one thing that hasn’t happened in that time is, simply, spending birthday time with a significant other, who may have planned something for you because they know you would appreciate it. I don’t have anyone like that in my life, and maybe that’s all that I’d want. But I’ve lived without for this long, so I shouldn’t expect anything different for my 50th.
And what happens in the next 30 years scares me even more.
