I thought that rather than writing my usual Dating Tips post, I’d turn the tables and focus on what’s going on in my dating life.
Perhaps you can help out a fellow Modern Philosopher in need by either offering me some dating advice, or by setting me up with your cute single friend, coworker, neighbor, relative, vague acquaintance, mortal enemy, or total stranger.
Because even though I’m remarkably skilled at giving out dating advice, my romantic life seems to have reached End of Days status.
Hell, I haven’t even had a hilarious relationship.
At first, it was definitely my fault. I was hoping that the long distance thing would work, and once it became apparent that it would not, I still couldn’t let go.
There was a prolonged mourning period, which included a lot of comfort food and making sure I was horribly out of shape so no woman would ever again want me.
My friends said I would never find someone new until I completely let go of the aforementioned previous owner of my heart, and I knew they were right.
However, her stubborn refusal to be humane and put a nice ribbon on things infuriated me and left me paralyzed to move forward. I know that’s really my fault, but I need to put some of the blame on her because she could have made this so much easier for me.
Instead, she just did what was simpler for her.
As a result, my Romantic Apocalypse finally arrived…
I definitely have been trying, Modern Philosophers. I’ve asked everyone I know if they could set me up with someone. I’ve tried a dating website. I’ve sat in Downtown Bangor with a “WILL DATE ANYONE” sign around my neck. I’ve crashed weddings. I’ve gone door to door in several neighborhoods. I’ve sent away for mail order brides, only to have my requests denied due to lack of postage.
If Jimmy Fallon hadn’t already done it with two of his writers, I would have asked Danny to let me do a “Find A Date For One Of My Writers” bit on The Nite Show.
I’m beginning to feel like I’ve had my shots at love, couldn’t make them work, and now I’ve got to sit it out and watch from the sidelines until Mort Fine comes for me.
In my defense, Your Honor, I have gone on several dates. If I liked her, she wasn’t interested in me. Or we simply didn’t click. And in a few cases, my date temporarily scared me away from the dating scene.
I’m a hopeless romantic, though, with an extreme emphasis on “hopeless”. I’m not going to give up, but I’m clearly doing something wrong and would love to figure out what it is because being alone sucks.
For some reason, I haven’t gone on a date in a long time. That was not a conscious choice on my part. In fact, I’ve been running and eating better in an attempt to make myself look more appealing, while also boosting my confidence.
I did think I’d kinda, maybe, sorta met someone who was interested in me, and as a result, I stopped looking and focused my attention on her.
That didn’t work out, and I have no idea why.
Then there was this sweet, but doomed to fail, long distance thing that had me distracted for a bit. If I couldn’t make it work with someone I loved who was one time zone away, how could I think someone half a world away was a viable option?
Maybe I was just so desperate to love again that I was willing to try anything?
Here I am, 18 lbs lighter, self-confidence much higher, and I’m still sitting home alone on a Saturday night.
This is my very own Romantic Apocalypse.
I don’t know if I could ever work up enough confidence to ask either of them for a date, but then again, in a post-apocalyptic world, everything is turned upside down. For all I know, a dorky writer with a Brooklyn accent might be exactly what those ladies hope to find.
Where do I find my Maggie or Charlie? This is where I hit a brick wall and then repeatedly beat my head against it until the stars come and I black out.
I could lose all the weight in the world, gain all the self-confidence one Modern Philosopher can possess without exploding, and it still wouldn’t matter if I can’t find someone who is single, interested, and makes my heart beat faster.
Where am I supposed to look???
Hopefully, I’ll find someone to revive my heart before a Daryl Dixon type puts an arrow through it and ends my misery…