I had a restless night last night. I spoke with my old friend and former flame, Computer Programmer, yesterday, entertaining him with some of my dating stories. He was both amused and a little jealous. He remarked a little sarcastically, “wow, a luxury of riches” when I told him about the Charmer and the Corporate Lawyer and the kind of attention I’d gotten recently at a bar. I laughed along — I tend to like laughing at myself, in any case. And I understood the kind of place he was in, feeling lonely and resenting being single.
But I woke up with a heavy, intense loneliness. I wanted to talk to The Charmer about his obnoxious text message and left a voicemail asking him to return my call. He hasn’t called me back yet, probably thinking I’m out on the group outing I’d been planning to go to. I also think my slow response is testing his patience. He is Mr. Right Now, and seems to be most interested in indulging his desires. One of the “Too Much Information” (TMI) details he disclosed right off the bat when we first met was his experimentation with hedonism. I didn’t even know it was a possible lifestyle choice, and I listened with an equal measure of amusement and curiosity.
All I want is something that seems so simple, so basic: the touch of another human being, a shared laugh, someone else’s warm breath on my nose, a pair of lips brushing mine. The Charmer seems more interested in contact of another variety, and Corporate Lawyer is distant and respectful. Neither is what I’m looking for, and I’m feeling sad. I think I might prefer to be alone instead of being reminded of what I don’t have; what doesn’t fit.