A (very) short dating history, part 1

I am feeling somewhat less ranty now and haven't had too bad a weekend so far. I kept myself occupied on Saturday by attempting to shop for Christmas presents, and have spent time on my job application today.

Anyway, as I'm in the mood for writing and there is for once nothing I'm feeling particularly sad, annoyed, fed-up etc about I thought I'd start telling you about my dating history. It won't take long, as I have only been on two actual dates in my life. Both were a few years ago and resulted from me joining a dating agency. This was in the days before online dating took off and entailed me filling in a paper questionnaire asking all about me, my education, my job, my politics, my religion, my appearance, my "hobbies and interests" and what I was looking for in a man.

The all about me bit was quite easy. The what I'm looking for in a man, less so. If I've never had a boyfriend, how do I know what sort of qualities I would want in one? I came up with something and the agency then plugged all of that information into a computer and matched me with various men whose details they sent to me. From the first lot of matches I received I only really liked the sound of one guy. I'll call him Stalker Guy, for reasons which will become clear. They gave me his name, phone number and address, so me being me, I wrote him a letter. Yup, that's right, a proper old-fashioned letter, handwritten in pen, on actual paper, folded into an envelope and put into the post-box. I just couldn't face phoning a complete stranger and trying to hold a conversation.

I had put my phone number on the letter and he called quite soon. I surprised myself by managing to speak back to him and we arranged to meet in a bar the following week. In case we couldn't find each other I told him what car I drove, which turned out later to have been a big mistake.

We met, had a drink, asked each other questions and talked. It wasn't a horrible evening but neither was it wonderful. There were no sparks, not much laughter and I just didn't click with him. I would probably describe it "okay". I didn't think I really wanted to see him again, but thought if he asked I would say yes, just so I had given things a proper chance. We left the bar and as we walked to our cars I realised that he had parked next to mine. He then tried, a little too keenly I felt, to get me to go back to his for coffee. The conversation proceeded thus:

Stalker Guy: Would you like to come back to my place for coffee?

Did he really just ask me that? Does he mean coffee or something more? How do you know if it means something more? I've only just met him, no waaay am I going back for coffee.

Me: No thanks, I have to be up early for work tomorrow.

Stalker Guy: You don't have to stay late.

Me: No, really, I do have to get up early for work, and I'm quite tired.

Stalker Guy: Go on, just come back for one coffee.

He's being a little too pushy, I'm not sure I like this. Why can't he just take no for an answer?

Me: I'm sorry I really can't, I am really tired.

I get into my car.

Stalker Guy: So when can I see you again?

I really don't want to see him again...but I can't just tell him that can I?

Me: Erm, I'm quite busy the next couple of weeks, I'll give you a call. (I can't just drive off now, that would be rude. What else can I say?) Or I could email you? What's your email address?

He gets a pen and piece of paper, writes something on it and hands it to me through the car window. It's illegible.

Me: I can't quite read it, what's that letter?

He walks round to the other side of the car, opens the door and gets in.

Crap, why did I not lock the door?

He takes the piece of paper off me and tells me what it says. And then, completely out of the blue, with no warning or build up, he leans over (actually probably better described as he launches himself at me) and kisses me. And not a nice, exploratory, do-you-want-to-kiss-me-back sort of kiss (obviously I'm imagining here how a kiss might start). No, he went straight for the full on, tongue and everything kiss. I was stunned. Oh dear God he's kissing me....I should kiss him back.. but I'm not sure how. I make a vague effort to join in with the kiss. I'm not actually enjoying this. At all. It feels pretty horrible...I want it to stop... How do I make him stop? I stop trying to kiss him back and manage to pull away from him. He makes a few comments about how pretty my hair is while stroking it. I feel slightly sick. I tell him again that I really need to go home. All the time I'm wondering what the hell I do if he won't get out of my car. Luckily he does. I say goodbye and drive off, going in the opposite direction from home.

I drove to a very public car park, stopped the car and cried. I then called my best friend and told her all about it. I think what I was most upset about was that he had ruined my first kiss, by making it so awful. She calmed me down and I eventually went home.

Over the next few days I got numerous texts and a few lengthy voicemails from him, saying what a lovely time he'd had, how much he liked me and how he hoped to see me again soon. Either he hadn't noticed the lack of spark and that I had hated the kiss, or for some reason he still thought he might get me into bed. If only he knew.....I ignored him for a while then finally sent a text saying I'd had a nice time but that I didn't feel that we were right for each other. That night I was woken by a strange text from him and when I went out to my car later the next day I found it had been vandalised. It was obviously him. I remembered that I had mentioned the area I lived in, and of course he knew what car I owned. I reported it to the police and gave them his name and asked my flatmates to be careful who they let into the flat. I couldn't sleep properly for the next couple of weeks but I heard nothing more from him.

So all in all, it was pretty disastrous first ever date. At the time it felt pretty traumatic, but looking back and having heard and read about other women's dating experiences, it seems like just a particularly bad date (except for the vandalised car part of the tale).

For a while I was upset and angry and disappointed and disillusioned, but I made myself contact someone else from my list of matches. I knew I needed to try again, to go on another date to prove to myself that not all men were going to turn crazy on me. And that date, although also unsuccessful, was thankfully, much less eventful.

The Friday afternoon question

You know one thing I really hate about Fridays at work? It’s that moment towards the end of the afternoon when a colleague pipes up “so what’s everyone doing at the weekend?” in such an enthusiastic manner that you just feel she’s only asking so she can proceed to tell you all about what exciting things she and her boyfriend will be doing.

Do you know what colleague? I don’t want to know what you’re doing this weekend. I don’t want to hear about the party you’re going to or your trip to the theatre. I don’t want to listen to the long list of what you have planned.
Hearing it reminds me of what I wish I was doing and of what I assume everyone else but me is doing (even though I know they’re probably not).

So I don’t want to know. If I did, I would have asked you. But as I didn’t ask, please don’t insist on telling me.

And I don’t want to tell you that I’m not really doing anything. I don’t want you to know that I have no party to go to. I don’t want to say that my list of plans mostly consists of sitting around alone in front of the TV.

Verbalising it reminds me of how it will be and somehow makes it more real. By the same token if I don’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t happen. I know that doesn’t make any sense. What it boils down to though is: I don’t want to tell you, so please don’t ask.

She is in essence a nice person and I wish she hadn’t brought on this little rant. I feel I’m being horrible and bitter. It’s just that I hate, hate, hate that damn question.

In the eyes of others

I finally got around to meeting up for a drink with Sociable Guy. We had quite a pleasant evening, and a quiet one by his standards – just me, him, his new girlfriend and one of my work colleagues who also knows Sociable Guy.

It was interesting to meet the new girlfriend. She seemed a little quirky, as is he, and appears to have led an unbelievably fascinating life so far; she’s travelled, done charity work, “lived her dream” on another continent. Oh, and been married and divorced. She must be around my age so I did feel somewhat inadequate and just a touch boring compared to her. She’s done so many things I’d love to do but for whatever reason haven’t.

I did have some minor news of my own in that I am in the process of applying for new job. I’m not sure whether I’m likely to get an interview, or even whether I really want the job, but it feels like one small hurdle crossed in the attempt to change my life. I have actually, properly, started a job application and if I can do it once I can do it again.

My work colleague made a bit of a random comment when I mentioned the job application. He said maybe I’d find a man if I end up moving to the new job (it’s in a different town), because after all I haven’t met one in x years in this town and workplace. He said it in a well meaning way (although it was nothing like the encouraging comments I get from Sociable Guy), but it did give me a little insight into how others might see me.

I’ve never thought of myself as the sad, older, single woman at my workplace, even thought I am the only older, single woman there and even though sad, older and single is pretty much how I think of myself outside the context of work. At work I’m just me who sits in such and such an office, doing such and such a job, and who is someone most people know or know of.

But my work colleague obviously sees me as a single woman who hasn’t managed to find a man in x years. Does he have an opinion on why I’m still single? Does he think I can find someone? Does he think I’m a lost cause? Was he just being polite when he said maybe I’d find a man? Do other people share his view? Do they judge me as a person because I have failed to have a relationship since they’ve known me? Do people feel sorry for me?

Part of me wants to know the answers to those questions, but most of me doesn’t. If the answers are positive I’ll just think the same as I have for the past 10 years, that is, that they’re lying. If they’re negative, well, I have more than enough negative opinions of my own already. I really don’t need to know that everyone else agrees.

A mutual lack of understanding

I saw my friend T (she of the relationship with the married man) on Friday. I told her about E and A moving in together and how it had made me feel. I used to speak to her quite a lot about my feelings for and attraction to A, before he and E started dating.

Anyway, on Friday she said all the “right” things: that it had been his loss, that I was too good for him, that it didn’t happen because there someone better out there for me (Yeah right. Where the hell has he got to then?). She also said she sort of understood how I had felt because she’d felt something similar about her married guy going home to his wife each evening and ultimately choosing his wife over her.

But she doesn’t really, truly understand, whether it’s about A or about my (lack of) love life in general. She’s had boyfriends. She’s had sex. She may have been rejected but she has also been wanted and been loved. She knows that she can attract men. She knows that she is capable of forming a relationship. She’s got over the hurdle of losing her virginity.

She isn’t afraid that the rejection means that there is something fundamentally wrong with her. She doesn’t wonder why it is that, as well as A, nobody else has ever wanted her either. She doesn’t think that maybe she’s just too unattractive. She isn’t worried that starting to date a man will mean having to tell him she is a virgin. She doesn’t know what it’s like to want to be in a relationship, but at the same time to be terrified of starting a relationship because all the “firsts” it would entail make it seem an enormous leap. She doesn’t feel like a naive teenager.

She doesn’t know that I’m a virgin and have never had a boyfriend, so she believes that she really does understand.

In return, I don’t really understand things that go on in her life. Her potential relationship with the much older guy hasn’t developed into anything yet and she is unsure what’s going on and confused by the way he’s acting. She told me all about it and obviously wanted some advice, which I tried to give her, but really I have no idea what I’m talking about. I can’t relate to the situation she is in at all. My advice tends to be just what I think would be the sensible thing to do, but it isn’t taken from any personal experience whatsoever.

And because she doesn’t know that I’m a virgin and have never had a boyfriend, she believes that I really do understand.

I’ve never really questioned what, if anything, this mutual lack of understanding means for our friendship. Yes, there are things she doesn’t know about me. But she cares about me and I care about her. She wants me to be happy. She can still give me advice, even without fully understanding. She seems to want and value my advice (although she doesn’t always listen to it), so it seems me not fully understanding doesn’t really matter either.

It would be nice to open up and be honest with her about my virginity because it does feel occasionally as if I’m lying to her, but weighing it all up, I don’t think it is essential for her to know. My best friend knows and it feels right that she does. But in general if my other friends wouldn’t understand or be able to relate to it, for the moment I don’t think they need to know and I don’t want them to know. One day I may be ready to tell more of my friends and even to talk about it with them. Right now, I’m okay with knowing that there are others out there in the blogosphere who do get it and do understand.

Memories

This afternoon I have been sitting at my desk feeling as if I might be about to cry.

My friends who are a couple, E and A, are moving in together. The female half of the couple, E, told me. It is really good news: they seem very happy together, are well suited to each other and definitely click.

The reason I feel like crying is the memories it brings back. A is someone who, for what seemed like an age, I was attracted to, had feelings for and who I wanted to date.

I never told him how I felt.

I made every effort to spend as much time as possible with him. I tried to flirt with him (I think I failed). I attempted to give him signals that would make it obvious that I was interested. I analysed everything he did and said for signs of interest. I discussed with friends (E, and T, the friend who was seeing the married guy) what I should do. But I didn’t say anything and I don’t think he realised.

As more and more time passed with nothing happening, I knew I should stop kidding myself that he was just shy, but I still naively hoped. Eventually I got to the point where I felt as if I would go crazy if I didn’t know for certain whether I had a chance with him. Even if the answer was no, I had to know. I planned to tell him how I felt. I drafted the wording of a letter or email (there was no way I could do it face to face).

Then he asked E out.

She said yes. I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. E and I talked about it. We agreed that neither of us wanted it to ruin our friendship. It took me quite some time to work through the feelings the whole thing left me with. I’m still friends with both of them, and I’m glad of that because I really value their friendship. They are great together and I don't know that he and I would have been, and I’m sure in a few days time I will be fine with it again.

But today....Today made me remember how long I liked him for and how much. It made me remember the huge amount of time and energy I expended on liking him and on trying to work out if he liked me. It made me remember how I wished one day to be in E’s position. It made me remember the occasions when he said something that made me think I stood a chance. And it made me remember that he chose someone else. And that made me want to cry.

One of the guys?

This has been a bad week at work so far. There has been a problem which required me to liaise with various departments in an attempt to get it resolved. It still wasn’t fixed by the time I left work today. Then something I spent hours setting up in a database then didn’t work as it was supposed to. I’m not sure I can get it to work. On top of that I’ve had new tasks thrown at me from all directions.

I arrived home exhausted and fed up and spent a couple of hours browsing the internet for job vacancies in my sector of work, and for other possibilities. I even started a couple of online applications. I’m not terribly optimistic that this will lead to any actual, real-life, concrete change of job. Next week when everything has calmed down at work I’m likely to slip back into my usual procrastination and never get round to completing the applications. Still, it’s further than I’ve got in a while. Maybe next time I have a bad week I will complete the online application form....and the time after that I will actually submit it...

One other thing that has been occupying my mind at work is a guy who works in my department. Well, more something he said really. This guy, G, often pops into my office to say hi and have a chat. He’s a nice, friendly sort, I get on okay with him and we chat about non-work stuff, but I’ve never seen him outside work so wouldn’t really call him a friend.

Anyway, the other day he was in my office and a new female colleague appeared in the doorway and asked if he could help her out with something. He said he’d be with her in a minute and when she’d gone turned to me and made a comment about her being “hot”. And it occurred to me that if he’s saying that to me, does that mean he sees me as “one of the guys”?

Sociable Guy does a similar thing in that when we’re out he will point out women he finds attractive (immediately before apologising for ogling other women instead of talking to me). I never really had male friends when I was younger, but in recent years I have made some, mainly developing from going for after work drinks with a group of them.

None has been interested in anything more than friendship (to my knowledge anyway) and I think they do tend to see me as one of the guys and talk about “guy things” in front of me. I kind of like that because it means there’s no ambiguity about our friendships and nobody is wondering whether there is a hidden agenda.

I guess there must be something about the way I interact with them that makes them feel like that. Or maybe it’s my “keep your distance, I’m scared of relationships” vibes. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I wonder sometimes whether it is such a good thing, especially when it comes to meeting new men. If I’m going to be seen as one of the guys am I automatically not potential girlfriend material? Do I need to act more “like a woman” or more “girlie” for men to consider me as possibly more than a friend?

The times they are not a-changin’

I didn’t go out with my Sociable Guy friend after all. I contacted him but he was working all day Saturday and decided the weather was too cold and wet to leave the warmth of home once he got back from work. So I spent the evening at home on my own. It’s at times like this that I really wish I had a group of single female friends who I could call up and invite out and I’d know that at least one of them would say yes.

I mentioned to Sociable Guy that at the moment I’m feeling fed up and as if my life is going anywhere. He responded by saying that only I can change the way my life is going and that I have to take the plunge and do what makes me happier.

I guess he’s right up to a point. No matter how stuck I may feel, there are probably ways out if only I try hard enough. I could try to work out what alternative job would suit me, then find myself a new job, preferably one with a higher salary, because that would mean that I could also get myself a home of my own. Or I could even try to find a better paid job similar to my current one because again that would enable a change of home. But finding someone to have a relationship with, relying as it does on someone else’s feelings, doesn’t seem quite as straightforward. I could make more effort to meet new people. I could sign up for even more courses and join even more clubs. I could even try internet dating, although the thought of it terrifies me. Ultimately though, I have no control over someone else’s feelings or over whether we click.

I know that I do need to change my life in some way, but I am uncertain whether I ought to try to change one aspect at a time, or just go for one big bang. Do I move into a different houseshare and stay in the same job? Do I find another job and a new home but stay in the same town? Do I find a new job in a different town which would give me a whole townful of new people to meet (assuming I could pluck up the courage to try to meet them)?

Doing anything at all seems too scary. What if I don’t like the new job? The new housemates? The new town? I think I’ve become almost too comfortable with a lot of things. I can do my job with my eyes closed. I’ve known my colleagues for ages so no nerve-wracking getting to know them required. I live conveniently close to work. I like the town I live in, its facilities and its location. I sometimes wish I hated my job because that would give me a push into at least changing jobs even if nothing else.

I am a terrible procrastinator. I am capable of spending hours thinking about what I‘d like to change and ways I’d want to do it, I day dream about living elsewhere, about travelling more, about the day I am offered a wonderful new job, yet I do nothing that might help to take me down that different path.

Sociable Guy is right. I am the only one who can change the way my life is going. I just need to give myself a very big kick to force myself to do it. Trouble is, I think I’m too afraid to give myself that kick.

Stuck

I’ve been feeling as if my life has got stuck for the past couple of days. It’s something that hits me every now and then and when I woke up on Thursday I recognised the feeling immediately and have not been able to shake it since. There are all sorts of aspects of my life that I wish were different, and that I want to change, but I seem unable to, hence the feeling “stuck”.

I have a job that which I don’t really enjoy and which doesn’t especially motivate me. I don’t dread coming to work each day, but I want to do something that I find more fulfilling and more of a challenge. The trouble is I am not entirely sure what that might be. I do have a “dream job” but it is one which is only recruited to once a year and which has quite a tough recruitment process. I have applied in the past and will do so again, but I don’t want to rest all my hopes on it, and would like to have an alternative in mind in case it doesn’t come to anything. So unless I am lucky in the dream job application and until I work out what else I might like to do, I am stuck.

I am in a similar situation in my home. I don’t hate where I live but would like to have a place of my own or at least to share with just one other person. Currently I share a rented flat with several other people and it often seems as if some of my flatmates change every few months. Unfortunately I can’t afford a place of my own and don’t really have anyone to share a smaller place with. So again I am stuck.

And then there’s my love life, or rather lack of. This is where I feel particularly stuck. I have had other jobs and lived in other places and can imagine changing both for something better eventually, even though it seems a distant prospect at the moment. The lack of a relationship though, I’m really not sure I can imagine that changing. Five years ago I thought, and hoped, that by now I might have met someone. As each year goes by however, and nothing happens, it feels more and more as if nothing ever will.

It’s as if I am treading water and going nowhere, while everyone else is swimming on past making progress in their lives.

It’s when I’m feeling like this that the optimism I usually take from my friendship with my sociable guy friend turns to pessimism. The theory that if he finds me interesting enough to want to be friends with me, then surely there’s someone out there who will find me interesting and attractive enough to want to date me, turns on its head. All I have is the thought that if all I need is for someone to find me attractive as well as interesting, why the hell hasn’t it happened yet? I’ve known a fair few men over the years, some of whom have become friends even if only for a short time. Did none of them find me attractive? Were they attracted to me and I missed the signs? I am extremely bad at reading signs, plus I often get too caught up with my own nervousness to even look for signs, so it is possible. I’m not sure I want to go any further with analysing why; I think I’d just make myself feel worse.

I was supposed to be meeting up with Sociable Guy this weekend. We haven’t made any concrete plans and I’m not really in the mood for trying to socialise, but I think I might contact him and try to arrange something. If I don’t I’ll just end up being miserable at home alone, and I’m definitely not going to unstuck myself doing that.

With a little help from my friends

I had a good Sunday. I went over to my friends’ house and had lunch, drank some wine, chatted, laughed, played some computer games. There were five of us to start with, then one of my friends and his girlfriend left and for the rest of the time it was me and another couple, both of whom I knew as individual friends before they got together.

They’re really good friends in all senses: they are people I enjoy spending time with and I know I can rely on them. Earlier this year I was quite ill and they visited daily and helped me in all sorts of ways. They’re probably the friends I spend the most time with currently and when I’m with them there’s no sense of me being a third wheel. On those days when I am feeling most down about my lack of relationship, (not to mention my job and where I live) when I’m feeling like a failure because I am no further on in life than 15 years ago, I remind myself that I am lucky enough to have friends like them.

There have been times in the past when I have not had many friends in my life. For a while I only really had one friend, albeit a very good one who is still my best friend. She was the only person I socialised with and opened up to and I came to rely on her a little too much.

At the time I was feeling particularly depressed about still being single and there were many times when I found myself crying on her doorstep as I tried to say goodbye and leave for home. Sometimes it had been building during the evening, others it seemed to come from nowhere, but always it was the same: sobbing rather than simply crying, noisy, messy sobbing, gasping for breath and finding it difficult to get the words out, which were always some variation of what’s wrong with me, am I ever going to have a boyfriend. I was also having problems with jealousy and I think a little paranoia.

My friend eventually told me I had to get help. I plucked up the courage to visit my GP. He asked a lot of questions (including “Do you have a boyfriend?” and “Have you ever had a boyfriend? How I longed, and long, to be able to say yes to at least one of those) but I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell him the whole story. I didn’t mention the uncontrollable sobbing and the paranoia; I just said I sometimes got upset when talking to a friend. I asked if I could be referred to a counsellor but he said he didn’t think I was depressed and told me to go back if things got worse. I never did.

Luckily I didn’t get any worse. I started spending time outside work with a colleague and managed to develop that into a friendship. I made efforts to keep myself busy. I stopped myself from reaching rock bottom. I know that if I didn’t have good friends now and if I didn’t have my classes and swimming, if I had nothing in my life apart from work, I would be back in the same bad place I was then.

It’s not that friends and keeping busy stop me wanting a relationship. They don’t stop the loneliness, they don’t stop the worry that I will never find someone, they don’t stop the hurt that comes from knowing that nobody has been in love with you, that nobody has liked you enough to even want to try being in love with you.

But my friends do make me feel loved and cared for. Spending time with them means I have evenings and days which I enjoy, when I have fun and when I laugh. It means that I don’t spend every waking hour thinking about my situation; it doesn’t completely dominate my life. I won’t, and can’t, let it dominate my life. If I did I fear it would completely overwhelm me.

Shooting myself in the foot

I just realised that my last post talks about my friend Sociable Guy inviting everyone he knows when he’s going out for a drink, and I thought isn’t that what I’m looking for, a way to meet new people? So why don’t I accept every invitation that comes my way from him?

I do accept some of his invites and over time have met a good number of his friends. They’ve all seemed nice but there hasn’t been anyone I’ve really clicked with or wanted to get to know better. When I go out with him now and his friends are there, I’ve generally met most of them already so the source of new people to meet has pretty much dried up anyway.

Also, I am not very good at all at speaking up in a large group of people, especially if I don’t know them very well. I’m that person in the corner who sits there and says nothing, while the conversation flows on without me and everyone else contributes insightful comments and chips in with witty one-liners. I can’t see anyone deciding that the quiet one in the corner is the one they want to know better.

I find it a little easier to talk to people in a smaller group, but if I don’t know them well (or at all) it’s still quite difficult and I still feel uncomfortable. There are those awkward pauses while I try to think of something to say and in an effort to say something I sometimes say pointless, stupid things.

I am a slightly more successful at one-to-one conversations, mainly because if I do say something idiotic, or am stuck for words, there’s only one person witnessing it, rather than a little group. It sort of lessens the embarrassment factor.

I will keep accepting the invitations if they arrive in one of my more confident moments. I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot by refusing them all, because you never know, one day there may be a new person there who I do click with. At the moment it just seems like one more “activity”, along with classes and clubs, where I’ve unsuccessfully met new people.

The thought does occur that I’m being somewhat fussy and picky about this – “I want to meet new people and make new friends...but not like that...I couldn’t make friends at that sort of event....I’ve tried that, it didn’t work”. But any analysis of that will turn this into a very lengthy post. Another time maybe. I need to go and buy wine to go with lunch.

My future self?

I spent a few hours at the shops today, mainly on the seemingly never ending search for a pair of jeans that fit perfectly. Just as I was standing in yet another fitting room wearing yet another not quite right pair I got a call from a guy friend.

He’s probably the most sociable person I know. Actually he’s probably the most sociable person I’ve ever met in my whole life. He loves going out, being with people and meeting new people and if he’s going out for a drink he’ll often invite pretty much everyone he knows. I prefer to see friends one-on-one or in a small group where I know everyone, so I don’t always feel comfortable at his gatherings. I get on well with him though and we’re going to arrange to meet up next weekend. Plans for two weekends in a row! Must be all that complaining I did...

My friendship with Sociable Guy gives me hope that I will find someone one day. He seems to find me interesting and worth spending time with, and says that I’m lovely (usually after a few drinks, but hey, a compliment is a compliment), that I really shouldn’t be single and that I need to find a man. I figure that if he finds me interesting enough to want to be friends with me, then surely there’s someone out there who will find me interesting and attractive enough to want to date me. I finished the call feeling quite cheered.

About an hour later I was waiting in the queue at the supermarket checkout and was watching an older woman on her own (about in her 70s) pack and pay for her food. And that prompted the thought: That’s me in 40 years. I was standing there having visions of me at that age, still single, shopping alone, going home to eat alone. I felt a little sense of panic.

Of course I had no idea whether the woman even was single. She had no wedding ring, but that might not mean anything. A husband might have been at home. She might have been widowed. Even if she was single she might have had a very active and happy life.

I always feel a little sad when I see lone older people, men or women, buying just enough food for one, counting out what looks like their last few coins to pay. Mostly I don’t relate it to myself, I just wonder what their story is and feel sad. I always hope that, no matter what their circumstances now, they’ve had a good life and that they have family and friends who love them.

I’m going to try to keep the cheery feeling I got after the call from Sociable Guy, and forget about the old lady future self panic.

Oh, and I did eventually find a pair of jeans. Not quite a perfect fit, but pretty good.