Wednesday 21 September 2011

When Was The Last Time I Went On A Date?

Depends what you call a date. I agree with Hank Moody (David Duchovny's character in Californication). A date is two adults, after seven-thirty in the evening, with the possibility of sex.

I can do the first two parts, but not the third. There is no possibility of sex. At least, none that I believe.

First, I spent too many years in a relationship where, for one reason or another, we had stopped having sex. We stuck with it through many years of bad times, so many years that by the end the good times weren't even a memory. I got very used to the idea that sex was something that didn't happen in relationship. Now I don't believe it happens at all.

Second, I have damage limitation to consider. When I have been without sensual touch (as opposed to squashed against other commuters) for an extended period of time, the slightest holding of hands sends hormones rushing round my bloodstream and turns me into an idiot. I realise what I have been missing, I notice the emotional greyness of the skies I live under. And then the come-down happens. I don't know about you, but for me disappointment is a physical feeling, doubtless caused by nasty chemicals some gland squirts into my bloodstream at that moment when I understand that what I was hoping was going to happen, isn't going to. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you have never really wanted anything enough. The aftertaste of disappointment is bitterness, often at myself and the world. When I was younger, I couldn't avoid all this and had to live with it, but at my age, I can and don't have to.

Third, who is she going to be? I have reached the point that all men eventually come to where, due to age, fading looks, slowing energy and insufficient disposal income to show a girl a good time, I want what I can't get and don't want what's left - assuming either group would want me.

I'm a man. I will go to my grave wanting the physical company of women because that's what it means to be a (heterosexual) man. Which means I have a few years of numbness-by-choice and occasional sharp jabs of regret and pain. I reserve the right to bitch and moan about this - you can exercise the right not to read to the end of the paragraph.

I would reverse this attitude tomorrow if God pushed a willing and not obviously alarming someone into my path. (And, by the way, if I thought He wasn't kidding.) But I have a limited amount of energy and I need most of it for the day job, exercise and chores. I don't have enough left over for low-expected-payoff activities like finding someone who will be kind enough to let me take them out on a date, which means, that they would also be crazy enough to find me sexually acceptable (attractive is probably asking too much).

And then there's the not-so-pretty side of all this. Which is around what I really get out of "relationships", sex and similar stuff. But I will leave that for later. Possibly much later.

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