This is basically a journal entry, but maybe you can relate to some of it…
I was recently asked if I’d been updating this blog. I explained that I’d let too many friends know about its’ existence and felt knowing certain eyes could be on it would alter or limit my writing. Maybe enough time has passed that I feel like enough people forgot about it again. That’s only half of it. I haven’t been dating either. The title of this blog really holds true. I stopped dating the last person I was seeing because I felt like seeing him once a week took too much time away from my hobbies and alone-time. Granted, I wasn’t that interested in him to begin with, but it’s nice to be content with single life. Only then, scrolling through FaceBook I start to think I’m supposed to be married or have children by now. Being single at this age starts to feel like you’re singled-out. I’m well aware that I only feel this way seeing friends’ photos and comparing myself to the way they portray their own lives on FaceBook, and that it’s causing me to think I’m “supposed” to do this or that, but regardless, that feeling comes over me every now and then. It causes me to make a lame attempt at redoing my online dating profile and skim through profiles for five minutes. That usually results in sighing, “I’m going to die alone” and closing the web browser. That has been the extent of my dating life, lately. If you’d even consider it one. I’m not even into kids. I see them on the train, pulling on their parents, screaming, bumping into me without an understanding of personal space, and I’m always convinced it’s not the life altering event I’d like to experience. So, I bounce back and forth between that reality and the fantasy world of FaceBook’s pressure and eventually find myself sitting home in my underwear on a three day weekend sipping wine by myself…and writing this.

I still read the messages that come through my dating site inbox, only I answer them out loud. “Hi, how’s your week going?” gets “Great, without you in it.” “Hey, want to grab a drink?” gets “Not with you.” “You’re really hot!” gets “You’re not.” These are all messages from men. Not a single woman ever messages me or replies to my messages. I’m starting to give up on the idea that I’ll ever be in any type of serious relationship with a woman. It’s not that it was “just some phase” like some of my friends called it. As I’ve put it, women just don’t like me, it doesn’t matter if I like them. I know that’s kind of presumptuous but I don’t know what else to make of it. At gay bars I haven’t come up with great answers to a lot of specific questions about my sexual preferences, ‘nor am I into lying. I started dating women when I realized I didn’t have to be boxed into the “straight” category if I was sexually attracted to some women, yet it seems that everyone else in the world still likes to box everyone they meet into some category. Most of them don’t take the idea of being attracted to both sexes seriously, either. And, being a virgin (with women) at this age is a huge turn off which I can’t seem to find a way around yet. It’s sort of like when you’re trying to get your first credit card and they tell you that you need to build a credit history to get one, but you need a credit card to build a credit history. Or when you try to get your first job but every job will only hire you if you’ve got experience at a previous job. But, I do have a credit card and a job now.