Putting My Feelings to Sleep

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Putting My Feelings to Sleep

Unread postby Retroman76 » 14 April 2019, 16:49

From most any of my past postings, one can surmise that I am not, by and large, a very likable person. That's because I show my truest, ugliest colors here, because I have nothing to prove or gain here...except maybe, occasionally, a wailing cyberwall.

But as we all know, those colors do not change when covered. They remain there, unappealing and unflattering, until the candy coating--so to speak-- inevitably cracks or gets licked off--so to speak--and there's nothing left concealing them.

Everyone has a few ugly colors in their personal palette. I have two extremes: very vibrant, beautiful colors and hideously dark hues. There's really no middle ground. And in prior messages, I've expounded upon that.

I know that for a whole laundry list of reasons previously noted how unlikely I am to ever attract a long-term partner. Middle age alone is first and foremost, and really the only necessary one. Gay is a young man's game, and I stopped being young twenty years ago.

So, intellectually, I have accepted this, along with the possibility that I will always be alone...and that I am probably better off for it. As is an untold number of prospects.

But how do you narcotize your emotions? How do you put them to sleep as you would a suffering pet, and stoically rise to meet the rest of your life without the pain of "getting sentimental" in weak moments?

Case in point: the other day, I stopped into a hair salon within walking distance of my home for a fresh buzz. I had been there before. It was raining, and I had taken my glasses off to dry them when a blurry male figure stepped into my view and welcomed me. It was classic. I could see even in my nearsightedness that 1) he was new there and 2) he was more than easy on the eyes, if not my usual type. I put my glasses on and looked him up and down. Yeah, cute as a bug's ear...around mid-thirties...elaborately-styled hair with blonde highlights...very chic glasses...adorable face and nose, and friendly, genuinely welcoming smile. When he invited me back to a chair, I couldn't help flipping on the charm as I had not in months, making an actual effort to have a conversation, show off my wit, and even--DRUMROLL--flirt a little.

He mentioned that I looked familiar to him, from the location where he had moved to this store from (he was an assistant manager). I admitted that I may have been to the other store, having also lived close to there. He told me about a haircut sale early in May to come back for. I agreed to do that, and talked a little about being a job coach. No really personal information or numbers were exchanged. He reminded me of the sale again at the counter, and I bemusedly reminded him that he had told me of it already. I tipped him five bucks. He was worth it, because he made me feel so good that afternoon, in many ways.

I haven't stopped thinking of him in two weeks.

Having his first name on my receipt, I Facebooked it to a fare-thee-well, trying to find his profile. No easy task, but I was Sam Spade on speed. And at last, I found him. Not surprisingly, even from his own and other's posts on his wall, I could tell that he was Everything I Am Not And Never Will Be. VERY attractive. Kindhearted. Giving. Social. Wanted. Upbeat. It's not hard to pick up on such things just from Facebook. You know what I mean. I held my breath searching around for references to a significant other (yes, I knew without a doubt he was gay) and...I found those, too. As of at least a year ago, he was taken. And oh, they looked so good together. That's because they probably belonged together.

I would never belong with this sweet and gentle man because I am the opposite of everything he arguably stands for. It is a fact that I have taken pride in being called my county's gay Maleficent. And it's no mistake that I played the Wicked Witch of the West in WOZ locally some years ago.

Needless to say, it hurt. I sat there for a while in my living room thinking, "Goddamn it, you let your guard down again!" Because I had. Despite all my attempts in recent years to close/lock/bolt the door on romance and "soft" feelings, following all the trouble and pain they had caused me in the past, they had found a chink in my armor.

My conscious mind shot to its feet and marched forward, hands on hips. "When will you finally get it in your ditsy head that you are not the type that anyone of any gender or preference would want to date? You're everything they RUN from, for Chrissake!!! You're consumed with bitterness and anger, you don't like people, you don't like socializing, you don't like really DOING much of anything, and you have no clue about how to GIVE rather than take!!! You never have!!! Add to all that the fact that you're getting older, and less and less attractive...and how can you kid yourself that you're anything but SUNK???? Oh...and remember how you were told once: 'DEPRESSION...ISN'T...SEXY!!!!!' Your friend with the bleach-blonde hair, even if he were single and available, would put up with you EXACTLY THIRTY MINUTES--the length of a coffee date--MAXIMUM. People like him have no time for people like you! Oh, sure, it all might be rainbows and cotton candy at first...but sooner or later, you would drag him down and suck the life out of him as you have just about every other close friend or lover you've ever had!!! Would that be fair to him?? ALL RIGHT!! So try doing something UNSELFISH for once and just take succor in the knowledge that he'll never bear scars from your claws!!!!" THAT is the most loving gift YOU could POSSIBLY give HIM!!!!

Truths, all.

Of course, I hadn't hoped for much, certainly not anything significant or long-term. Common sense told me even as we talked that this fellow was not likely to figure in my future, not no way, not nohow. But I guess my heart was hoping, albeit against hope, just a very teeny, weeny, tiny, feeble-minded bit.

And now again, the question: how do I drive a stake through my forty-two-year-old, not-very-warm, narcissistic, achingly oversensitive and dysfunctional heart? How do I cut my losses once and for all and put these useless feelings of longing and loneliness to sleep...and live the rest of my life alone AND at peace?
What a World, What a World...
-My Epitaph (if the fam doesn't want me to haunt them till the end of their days and then slap them hard when it's THEIR turn to cross over)
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