Since I made the decision to be single for life (it will be eight years on November 4. If you are wondering what to get me for an anniversary gift, I would really like a gravity blanket) I have struggled with the matter of yummy.
When Cricket and I first discussed this back in 2012, we ran through possible solutions and why each failed to meet my needs. I also promised I would continue working on a solution and letting you, dear readers, know what I found.
Over the last eight years, all I came up with is rejoining Bumble every year in July (and then quitting again in September) and occasionally, drunkenly, making out with some random guy.
Neither of which has proven satisfying or sustainable.
But then something happened while I was reading Anais Nin and her struggles to define relationships her way. I realized I was going about this all wrong. I want to be single. I really like being single. And, I am really good at it. But that doesn’t mean I want to be alone all the time. And I don’t have to be. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.
At least, I hope it doesn’t.
As I started to sort out what I thought this could look like, I floated the idea by Marie. I needed to know if I was being crazy or, more likely, crazy-naive. I explained that I want someone who is smart and funny and gets along with my friends and who I am attracted to but isn’t looking for a long-term commitment. I need a date for all the times my friends get together with their men but not a guy who is going to be around every Sunday when I want to go to yoga, and run errands, and cap the day off with takeout, a facemask, and a glass of wine with Zuzu.
Was it possible for me to just date someone, in perpetuity? Never moving in with each other or getting engaged. Never advancing to the point where you have to check in with each other before making plans for a Saturday night. Definitely meeting each other’s friends, but probably never meeting each other’s parents.
As we ran up Cherry Street (you can solve a lot of life’s problems during a run with a close friend) Marie didn’t think I was crazy or naive. She believed so long as I was open from the very beginning, anything was possible. Even the possibility that with the right someone, I might eventually want to meet his parents and invite him to spend a Sunday evening with me.
I smiled (as much as one can smile at the end of a run). Sure, Marie.
So, I went back to Bumble. I added a description of what I was looking for and updated my pictures to include some selfies I took in Paris. I am having about the same amount of success I always have on Bumble — which is to say none. I am matching with more guys this time around but within the first few messages they make it very clear they are looking for a f*ck buddy*. While, I don’t want a serious commitment, I don’t want to be someone’s 2 a.m. back-up plan, either
*F*ck buddies are great in your 20s and even early 30s. But if your mid and late 30s and 40s are anything like mine (and if you did your 20s and early 30s right, they probably are) you aren’t spending as many nights out as you used to and when you are out, you aren’t out as late as you used to be. So, by the time you get that “You up” text (thank Steve Jobs for the Do Not Disturb setting on my iPhone) it is already the next morning. And you have a FlyWheel class to get to.