Mike Alvear’s Urge & Merge

I got some of the most moving emails I’ve ever gotten in response to a column I recently wrote about being single.  My heart aches when I get letters like this one, and though I try to play it off humorously I really get how unbearable it can be to face yet another weekend without anybody by your side.  

Q.  I’ve pretty much lost all hope of ever meeting anyone for a meaningful relationship.  It’s been 10 years since I last dated anyone (I’m 38 now).   It’s been so long since I last had sex I can’t even remember who or when it was.  Up until recently, I went out every weekend and had profiles on almost all the social networking sites, gay and straight.  I know that going out to the club isn’t the best place to meet someone but I don’t live in a huge gay mecca.  There aren’t gay coffee shops or restaurants to frequent.  When I do go out I’m never even looked at.  Physically I’m no Adonis but it’s not like I need to be rolled back out to sea either.  I think I’m a very friendly person with a big heart and great sense of humor but it’s hard for that to shine through on profiles.  I think part of my problem is that I’ve just accepted that I will be alone for the rest of my life masturbating to porn.  But it’s hard not to have that mentality when it seems no one is interested.   In a couple of years I will be 40 and I just feel that by then it will all be over.  I’ve even advertised on Craig’s List, offering to give oral with no reciprocation required . . .  and still nothing.  If I can’t even give away a blow job how can I get anyone interested in me for more?  

 

–All Hope Lost

Dear Lost:

I ached when I read this.  Your heart’s broken in so many pieces your email jingled when I opened it.  Sadly, it’s all because you’ve bought into a false premise–the one that says if you just go to the right bar you’ll find HIM.  That if you just wore something better, drove something newer, said something smarter, HE would magically appear.  That if you earned more, looked hotter, or fucked harder HE would save you.  Or at least, buy you a drink.

Well, HE won’t.  Part of being single is learning how to handle that awful truth.  Nobody is coming to rescue you.  HOWEVER.  You can rescue yourself –and get a relationship–if you’d repair the fatal flaw in your thinking.  See, boyfriends don’t bring happiness; happiness brings boyfriends.  And you’re about as happy as Kate Moss with blocked nostrils.

Until you really “get” that happiness brings boyfriends, not the other way around, you’re doomed to singlehood–or worse, honkin’ bad boyfriends.  So, instead of looking for a husband, get yourself ready for one.  How?  With a Romance Douche.  You know how you don’t want anybody topping you if you’re dirty between your legs?  Well, you don’t want anybody dating you when you’re feeling crappy between your ears.  Let’s face it, dating is a lot like bottoming–you gotta clean yourself out or the shit is going to go everywhere.  That’s why you need something that’ll flush out your system so you don’t drive away potential husbands, or worse, stain something valuable.

A Romance Douche is simply what I call a “time out.” A break from boyfriend hunting.  A three-to-six month holiday to build stronger connections with friends and family, with hobbies and sports.  A leave of absence from the back-breaking work of scaring up a partner so you can cultivate passions and involve yourself with things that make you interesting, and dare I say it, happy.

Let the sabbatical be your enema and I promise you’ll have so many guys applying for the husband job you’ll have to put up a sign that says, “Line forms in the rear.”

This entry was posted Oct. 3rd, 2008 at 4:11 pm. It was tagged alone again, I hate being single, lonely, single, single and lonely. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.