QMusings

Until quite recently, I had never considered that my single state might be considered unusual. If words and phrases reflect the times, I certainly have not heard “old maid” or “spinster” in recent memory.

I’ve dated. I’ve had long-term relationships. I just never got married. My biological clock doesn’t seem to have an alarm, so I am not really marriage-conscious. Not that you have to be married to have children. I’d just rather be married than not if someone managed to knock me up.

I’ve always considered marriage to be serious stuff. Don’t couples exchange “marriage vows”? I am sure there are more “liberal” vows out there (”All bets are off if you get old, fat, lose hair…”,  “I’m outta here when you sprout ear hair”), but the marriage vows I was raised with, and still hear at weddings, has the phrase “’till death do us part.”

A whole lot of bad stuff can happen between marriage and death. Good stuff too, but good stuff generally doesn’t cause people to part.

So. One man. For the rest of my life. Whoever dies first, wins. The joke of it is, it isn’t a joke. If you love someone in the forever-after variety, you don’t want to be the one left behind.

ANYway, that’s been my slant on marriage. Divorce runs “in the maternal line” as my mom would say, so perhaps that’s why I’d like to buck tradition. She’s been divorced. Twice.

When my last relationship ended, I had no desire to look for a replacement. Work was keeping me busy and I barely had enough time to spend with my friends. I would rather be alone than dating just to have someone. No “filler” (hah!) for me.

Years go by. Yeah. Years.

Do I miss certain, shall I say, aspects (aka BENEFITS) of being in a relationship? You betcha. “Oh…them benefits. Them mighty-fun, super-yum benefits!” (chorus).

I guess I was struck with Spring Fever this year as I suddenly wanted to date again. I was missing the closeness, the emotional intimacy, the … horizontal friction. I post a free profile on one of the online dating sites, featuring a photo of myself that has been judged, “severe”, “scary”, and “cool” depending on the viewer. Side note: women thought I looked scary. Men thought I looked cool, or even sexy. Sexy? Made me wonder. Made me wonder if they thought of themselves as very bad little boys. Boys who needed punishing. Just a thought.

I posted that particular photo because I looked whacko. I found it amusing. If anyone actually contacted me, that would be even more amusing. I did have more standard shots in the profile, but a man would have to get past the psycho babe. I figured I’d have it up for a week, maybe two, and then use a “nice” photo of myself.

Since I am 41 years old and looking for men within +/- 5 years of my age, I had a lot of competition. There seemed to be quite a few hot 40 year olds out there and a jackpot of hot 30-somethings. Men always want younger. I am sure even gay men want younger gay men.

My inbox was not awash with requests to meet me. My profile was targeted to appeal to a certain type of man. Again, I don’t want to date filler. I want a partner. Sexy. Smart. Wickedly smart. Self-aware and not afraid to get his hands dirty. I want…a warrior-poet.

A 46-year old French man contacts me. Highly intelligent, in my field of work, funny. We end up going out on 3 dates, each one better than the last. Let’s call him “Pepe.” When Pepe first contacted me, he wrote that his accent is so heavy that he’s actually more understandable if he does an imitation of Pepe Le Pew. He was right. I liked him.

Pepe was divorced. Twice. He was understandably cautious, and quizzed me tirelessly about my past relationships over the 3 dates.

He was so absolutely astounded that I’d never married, much less lived with anyone, he kept asking me WHY. He told me that I must have a fear of commitment.

Qu’est-ce que ‘Ironic’?

I thought about what Pepe said. Did I fear commitment? Was that what it was all about?

I pondered this, but not for long. I don’t fear commitment. If anything, I believe that I am more committed. I think that most people get married with the idea that they can always get a divorce. It may be subconscious, but it’s there. Or perhaps they are settling. It’s time. They are at the right age, the right financial state, they want to start a family, they’re tired of dating and they just want to get married. They find someone that fits most of their criteria and they settle.

Who wants to settle? I don’t. I don’t think it’s fair to the other person or me. I want to look at my husband and think, “I am so lucky to have you in my life. I cherish you.” Cherish. To hold dear. And I want him to feel the same about me. I don’t think I am having a romantic fantasy or that it’s a “female thing.” I believe that the desire to love and be loved, to cherish and be cherished is a human thing.

“To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish ’till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.”

I’m committed. All the way.
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If you feel the same way, you may be a Quirkyalone.

Quirkyalone: noun/adj. A person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating for the sake of being in a couple. With unique traits and an optimistic spirit; a sensibility that transcends relationship status.

http://www.quirkyalone.net/qa/

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