Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad

Making friends isn’t something I do well. Upon meeting me, you will find me quiet and reserved - most people would say I am shy. People who know me well would laugh at that. Once you know me, I am not shy. Truthfully, when I first meet you, I’m getting a read on you. Don't ask me what I’m reading - I have no idea, but my picture is next to the definition of the phrase, “What are you eyeballing?” No lie. That’s been asked of me many times - think I might respond with “Seeing if I can tolerate your presence” when I’m asked it next.

Once I find your presence acceptable, that doesn’t mean I just start talking. Oh, I may make a comment on the clothes you are wearing, or on your shoes if I like them, but usually I’m still quiet. You see, I don’t know if I like you enough to engage in conversation. Peopling is exhausting for me. Even conversing with my own son can be too much, so I conserve my mental batteries for people who are important to me. I just met you - outside of being a human being, you aren’t’ that important to me, and I’d rather converse with my child for three hours talking about Minecraft than talk to an absolute stranger - don’t test me, I’ve done it.

So, now there’s the small talk. I hate small talk. As I’ve said, conversing with people drains my mental batteries and small talk, in my mind, is a waste of time and energy. Talking about the weather is pointless - we both have eyes and access to weather reports. Discussing the weather is stupid. If you want me to engage in conversation, ask my opinion on something important - but be prepared for an opinion you may not like - and we can talk about that. For me, the energy I put forth for conversing with people needs to be worth it. Asking me what type of movies I like to watch, or what kind of music I like to listen to can be asked in text messages; talking about how you and I view the world? Now THAT’S worth the energy. Why? Because that shows more about a person than what movies or music they enjoy.

So, having said all that, I have done something I have sworn I would never do. I feel silly having done it; it’s not natural or organic. It reeks of desperation and not to mention the stigma surrounding it. PLUS, half the time it’s filtered - and as you know, I am done being filtered. I’m strange, weird, crazy, profound and perfectly imperfect. I have my flaws. Some I don’t like - I’m working on correcting them. Some I adore - I ain’t changing those flaws for anyone. I don’t like going out to crowded places (I despise grocery shopping and haven’t set foot in Aggieville in years); I tend to keep to myself and keep close to home, so whenever I do get overwhelmed and need to leave in a hurry, I don’t have far to go until I get to my sanctuary; and while I tried to change the “house mouse” aspect of myself, I found that I rather like my quasi-solitary way. However, sometimes I get lonely, and although I do have friends, there’s not that many - and they have their own lives to live (meaning they aren’t waiting around for me to get lonely and actually WANT to people - they know it doesn’t happen very often).

So, what did I do?

I joined a dating app.

Now, before you throw Two to Tango at me, I am truly looking for friends to do stuff with. I tend to get along better with men than I do women in friendship - most of the female friends I’ve had tend to get butthurt when I don’t call or visit them enough - and for most of my life, I’ve been in the “friend zone” or “sister zone,” meaning I gave the guys great advice from the female perspective and kicked their asses when they got too big for their britches. However, with every romantic relationship I’ve had (a whopping THREE serious relationships), I had set aside the male friendships so as not to court trouble - avoiding the appearance of impropriety and all that. And once my husband died, any friendships I had with his friends fizzled to nothing - especially when they realized I was not interested in having sex with them (they were like brothers to me) nor was I interested in a romantic relationship with them.

Assholes.

Anyhoo, I opened an account, specifically stating I am looking for friends. I am not opposed to the “with benefits” part, because, let’s face it - I like sex. A lot. And I’m not so innocent that I don’t understand I have “needs.” But I do NOT want a romantic relationship and all the messiness with that because I am NOT ready for it. There’s been a few that I find funny and could hang out with, but I have seen more pictures of penises than a porn casting director. However, as nice as the pics are, I cannot bring myself to having sex with just any ol’ person. For me, there needs to be a connection - which I had stated on my profile, if the dick pic senders would have bothered to read. At the time I typed the profile, I had no idea what that connection was - thinking someone is attractive isn’t enough for me to get hot and bothered. As I spoke with various individuals over the last two weeks, I pondered what that connection was. What was it about my son’s biological father (my first serious relationship), my late husband, and my current ex (I’m fairly certain there will be more in my future - I’m not everyone’s cup of tea) that made me want to shag them? Each man is very different - especially in their personalities, ages, looks, professions - yet there were similarities. However the similarities weren’t what made me want to be with them - for fuck’s sake, I can swing a damned hammer and build shit (doesn’t look professional, but then again, I am not a tradeswoman). What was it that made me take the plunge and jump into the bed with them?

It was trust.

With my first, it was trust that he truly thought I was attractive (something my 20 year old mind hadn’t had all throughout her teenage years). With my late husband, it was trust that he would love me no matter how weird I got (everyone knows I’m a strange duck), or how badly I acted or screwed up (which I did frequently, but I admitted my failure - always said I wasn’t a very good wife to him in the beginning; rectified said failure and learned from my mistakes) because I always felt like the love others had for me was conditional. With my current ex, it was trust that he would accept me for me - my flaws and my strengths. Something I have never had in my life - acceptance (aside from my inner circle - all 4 of them). Trust is the connection I need.

And it’s something I don’t give freely. Trust, for me, is the bridge from being a friendly acquaintance to being a friend. Everything else - like acceptance, love, and loyalty - is built on trust. My first cheated on me - apparently he thought me losing weight was a bad thing and I wasn’t attractive anymore. My late husband wanted me to not only change the flaws I wanted to change (constant anger, holding onto grudges, impatience), but the ones I liked as well (independence, a trusting heart, seeing the good in people). My current ex couldn’t accept me as I am, I guess - a flawed human trying to be better. My first, I just left - he broke my trust and I wasn’t willing to forgive him for it (not like he was apologizing anyway). My late husband - I can’t blame him. I, too, tried to change him in the beginning of our marriage until I realized I was the problem, not him - then the stroke happened and that’s when the wheels started coming off of the wagon. But, his last year of life, we both learned that love was unconditional, and once we accepted that, we were in a pretty good place before the cancer affected his brain. With my current ex, he threw me out of his life as if I were trash. I don’t know exactly why, and I’ll probably never know. I’m going to venture a guess and say it’s because we are both broken in the same way - except I know I’m broken and I’m trying to fix the parts I don’t like about myself where he is happy with himself. That is perfectly okay - laudable even - and I don’t begrudge him for it. I just didn’t know his communication style as I said in Two to Tango.

So! Long story short (or as my son would say, TLDR): If you want to get with me, you have to earn my trust. And right now, I’m inclined to not to trust many individuals. I’m trying not to paint all people with the same brush, but when you get burned as many times as I have…well, once bitten, twice shy ain’t just the name of an album.