It seems that spending even a small amount of time on your own terms, dateless, means that you will die alone, a bitter shadow of a soul that no one will miss.
Or at least that appears to me to be what the majority of the people I've run into lately believe.
Now I'm hardly a player, but I'm pretty good with chatting up some nice stems when my the mood strikes my fancy. I just haven't really been using my fancy very often lately and I've been getting bitched at like it's a crime.
The most recent example was a rather nice lady who is soon to be grandmother and one I've always allowed to pry into the particulars of my somewhat monotonous life. We were discussing the dearth of socialization I'd been waking up from and she had the tenacity to tweak my nose over a few recounted adventures. Namely, she thought I wasn't playing the game enough. (I think she's just flaunting her soon to be matriarchal status.)
I'm no stranger to the game, mind you. But I have some reservations when it comes to dipping my toes in that particular river. I've never seemed to be truly lacking in companions, and my submissiveness means I often overlook someone taking advantage of me out of intention. These make me less than properly prepared for partaking in playtime.
My friend however, laid into me with quite the rant about how I much better my relationships could have been. How much quicker I could have moved along, how much more balanced things could have been, if only I had been willing to play the game more. Evidently, I made it too easy or I gave up too quickly. (I'm still not convinced this was all just about her tea being too warm.)
So with much hard reflection (okay, laid up with the flu provided ample time to think) I realized there might possibly have been something to this crazy theory. After all, the last few forays I've endured haven't exactly panned out, or would be even be considered fair play. When applying a friends advice it is possible to consider how many more adventures I could have engaged in if I'd only played the game a little more. How many different dates would I have had? How much less time would I have invested? How many more trips to gym could I have fit in? How would things have been different if I let someone else buy me drink once in a while. Or gave me the backrub. Or just took the hint when her hand was on my butt.
I guess I can't get around the notion that if you love someone, let them know. If you enjoy someone, spend time with them. If you don't feel these things, politely move along.
Evidently such simplicity is all wrong.
According to my kind lady friend, and everyone else I've ever known, we don't want anything that is easy for us to acquire. We start to doubt when that person we set our eyes on just jumps right in after us. We get bored when the unknowns and newness of our relationships starts to fade. Our thoughts wander. Or so I'm told. (Supposedly I live "too much in the present", for me to notice this says the cranky old broad.)
So maybe I need to learn to "wiggle the worm" a little and not be so direct. To leave a little mystery and "let the fish come to you". I'm not so sure I'm keen on having my love life compared to a fishing expedition, but I try to listen to advice when well intentioned.