Greetings from the Abyss. Pardon me if it stares back. It’s been a while since I posted anything on here. Fortunately for some, and unfortunately for others, I have not died. The thing is…I’m at a crossroads for this blog. I started writing this thing shortly after I broke up with my then fiancee, and needed a creative outlet for these feelings I had. Then, after some time and some spectacularly terrible dates…and some I’d define as only “meetings” since that’s how far it went before shit went south…I decided to write it all down. It’s kind of like when you get into an auto accident and you fill out a report for the police, only the report is laced with snark, and written by a sarcastic cop with a sense of humor. I started writing silly posts about the rules of dating, dating philosophy, do’s and don’ts. Pretty soon, I had a following of wonderful readers, and I think I must have gotten trolled by Reddit a couple of years back when some people put me on their Neckbeard page. (Thanks for the hits, even if you were trying to call me an online creeper.)
And lately, I’ve had a very active life. Lots of different experiences, lots of wonderful amazing adventures, travel… But the fact is, I kind of stopped looking for this elusive thing called “love”, and generally don’t play the game that modern people have coined “dating” anymore. Maybe it’s because I don’t really fit in into the mold by which we seem to gauge attraction anymore. The so called “game” has changed by leaps and bounds to the point where it’s unrecognizable to someone like me. And not just that, but more and more, while there are a lot of aspects of my life that are progressively getting better and I find that I excel…there are some parts which I’m finding are just left by the wayside.
See…next year I’m facing my big 40. I don’t really give much of a damn. I never really held much stock in that whole “mid life crisis” nonsense. Plus, I have my Asian genetics going for me, which makes me look at least ten years younger than I actually am. So aesthetically, I’m not doing that badly. The thing is though, the older I get where I’m single, the less and less I care, and that is starting to disappoint me.
I used to love meeting people. I loved going out and still do. I used to classify myself as an extrovert. Big voice in a tiny body, fun at parties, great conversationalist, storyteller… I can still be these things, but more and more, I find myself being alone and being okay with it. Maybe not okay, but rather, indifferent. I just don’t care, and that’s what frightens me a little bit. I used to have more passion for this. But more and more, I find myself going to dinner alone, going to movies alone, going to see a show alone…and most of my nights are spent in my apartment by myself. I go days without texts or calls from anyone (except maybe robo-calls or Verizon). Increasingly, I find that a large isolation field seems to be spreading with me as its Ground Zero. And I try to muster some semblance of caring. I should meet someone new! I should reconnect with friends! I feel bad for the friends that I DO have who get these inane texts from me, because somehow it feels like they are tethering me to the world.
And it’s not like I don’t do things. I have theater, I have choir, I have work… I interact with people every day! But there are days where I feel detached, like a dislocated femur. I got to wondering if this was my version of a mid-life crisis. See, every other aspect in my life, if I work hard enough at it, yields greater results. Plugging away at your job, excelling at it, can lead to a promotion. Practicing skills, rehearsing longer, leads to better opportunities, and refinement of your craft. There’s not much you can do with interpersonal interaction except go out there and roll dice. You’re not always rewarded for your hard work. In fact…sometimes, it’s much more beneficial to back off and say fuckall. And it gets worse as you get older.
People look to those of us who have been on this earth longer to have our shit together. Because honestly, at this point and juncture in our lives, we should have a reasonable grasp on things. People are less tolerant of us not knowing what it is that we’re doing. Like if I don’t know how to do my taxes, I call up my mother or my father and ask. Sure, I could go Google that shit, but who has the time to sift through 12 pages of jargon? You ask your parents and they know. If they don’t know, they point you in the direction of the family accountant, or a financial consultant, or the phone number of a friend of a friend who is just really good with numbers and owns a calculator. You don’t GET that with romance, love, or relationships. Going to couples therapy only works if you’re already part of a couple! Most of the time, what you get are platitudes and “it gets better” speeches. Not saying they’re not genuinely concerned, and mean you well…but it’s the equivalent of asking your parents how to do your taxes, and having them say “…have you tried Google?”
There’s a reason why most emo songs are about childhood or teenage angst. Because at my age we need to figure shit out or deal with it. Panic at the Disco doesn’t write songs about the trials and tribulations of their 30’s. Why? Cause no one is that sympathetic about someone who already had the time to figure out life, and just hasn’t done it yet. But more and more, I realize it’s not just me. There are tons of people on Facebook who just kind of look out into this grand abyssal digital chasm and go “All my friends are married and I just microwaved a Hot Pocket and YouTubed cat videos for 3 hours…”
So here I am…about a half year before my 40th. I’ve long passed the angsty teenager in me that contemplated dying on a whim, and far surpassed the point at which I was supposed to be good at this. Now, I’m just “dealing with it.” A lot of this is auto-pilot, if I were to be completely honest. I still do the things that I want to do. I work hard so I can allow myself to be happy in my free time. I just wish I had the same passion to love that I had once. Granted, it’s a fine line between that and desperation, but I never had to check myself to see if I was “settling” for someone until now. I never had to make sure I wasn’t just trying to coast myself into what I imagine what a good relationship should be.
Maybe this is what my mid-life crisis is going to be. I’m not buying an expensive convertible (cause I can’t afford it, the insurance premiums would be off the charts, and it’s not frugal in the least), and I’m not getting Rogaine, or plastic surgery (cause look at me, I’m pretty cute as is). It’s going to be finding someone that truly deserves me and I truly deserve in the midst of a maelstrom of “fuck-its”. It’s going to be rekindling the love I have for connecting.
…so I don’t know what the future of this blog will be. I’m not done writing. Not by a long shot. I have plenty of ideas, and some fun topics on the way. And people are always giving me new inspiration for writing about relationships and the human condition…and as always it’ll be written in my sarcastic, snarky style that some of you have grown to love (and I guess neckbeards have grown to hate?).
Regardless of where I am in life, I’ll continue to post here, until that day where I have no more left to say on anything. Cheers all. – AB