Empty Nest, Empty Net, Full Heart

I have not heard a word from Q since our Friday date, and I'm quite certain I won't. My guess is that if I'd gone to bed with him, I'd hear from him once in a while. But something didn't take, and whether I "drove" him away (see Advisory Board) or there wasn't the "connection" that daters famously hope to make, my relief is palpable that I don't have to hear those whistling teeth again or feel that little slippery tongue between my lips.

Looking back, I am rethinking my eruption of self-loathing in the last post. Yes, I do agree with the argument that one should take it a step at a time and not think about larger issues at first; that it's silly to expect levels of attraction and passion at my age that I've had with others; that I should enjoy someone's company and "have fun" and rather than rate them in my head. But fun, like happiness, isn't something that can be manufactured ready-made by intention. "Should" is a word that has little place in the kind of relationship I'm willing to sacrifice my free time for. I either enjoy being with someone or not, and except for the first dinner, I didn't enjoy Q enough.

In the spirit of this-is-almost-over, I actually violated my no-phone rule and spoke to two more fish who swam into my net while it was lying idle in the water (that is, not to force the metaphor, they contacted me, which always tugs at my heart). T, from Brooklyn, was lively but had little to say. U, from Westchester, is retired from teaching grade school and now plays golf. He is upset that he has to sell his large house now that he's divorced. I found myself telling him about Buddhism and loss and being attached to material things, though I am not a Buddhist. This was odd of me, but then we've established that I'm odd. When someone bores me, I tend to talk to entertain myself. He was not interested, and I won't hear from T or U again.

V, a professor at a nearby school in a subject very different from mine, wrote to say he would call me when he returned from a trip this week, but I know almost nothing about him beyond his profession. He may or may not call. Since I am no longer on Match, V may be the last, unfortunately: it would have been nice to make it to the end of the alphabet. Now that's my idea of fun.