When You Decide It’s Ok if You Never Date Anyone Again

Let’s say you’re single and have been searching for that special someone for a while. No one holds a candle to your one true love from way back when. You’re not finding anyone who gives off sparks or coincides with your values and lifestyle. Being over 50 makes the answer to this question easier:

What if you never find anyone else?

Could you be happy without an intimate partner for your remaining years? It’s better than trying to recapture that thing you had and never finding it in anyone else. Those were my thoughts as I drove home to be alone with my cats.

Society tells us we need a partner to fulfil us. I know that’s not true, as I find joy and fulfilment in other areas of my life. But I do want to be with someone eventually. I just don’t want to try this hard anymore. I accept that I could be alone until I die.

I accept that we’ll live in this apartment on government subsidies indefinitely, that I may never buy a house. So why not accept that I may never have a partner again?

I accept that I might not have partnered sex for another seven years or more. That’s ok. I can orgasm alone. If I can have sex by myself, I’ll survive without a mate.

The last time I tried to conjure a soul connection, I had kids with a man I didn’t love. Now we’re tied to each other for the rest of our lives. He’s kind, he provides financial support, and I love our wonderful children, but I traded in something real for a fabricated life I don’t recognize as mine.

I want to recognize my partner as significant, someone who brings joy and connection, someone I can trust and believe in, and know they’ll do the same for me. I want passion and compatibility. I want eyes twinkling when our eyes meet. I want to grow old together, to embrace changes to our bodies and our lives. I want to hold their hand as they pass onto the next realm, after many years of knowing each other in the most intimate ways.

I know I want a lot. I’m already old(er), and have never married or been in a long-term relationship. So most of that is a dream of how we could look and feel. But I’ve been hanging on a long time, wondering if it’ll ever happen. I’m in the slowing down phase of life, so maybe it’s better to just let go of the dream.

I hadn’t planned on it, but I looked at my ex-boyfriend’s old photos on Facebook the other night. I saw his 2010 smile, and the sadness rushed in. I miss that smile, and I miss us being in each other’s presence. That’s why I usually try not to peek at old photos too often.

By mid-morning the next day, I started bawling on my car ride home while listening to Next to Me by Imagine Dragons. It wasn’t even a song memory we shared. But to have him next to me, that’s what I want again.

Our first date was years ago — November 8th, 2008, to be exact. I still can’t find a sufficient substitute for that man’s companionship. Why not?

Some might say I have attachment issues. But what if our story isn’t over yet? Maybe that’s why I’m not finding another love connection. It’s not like I haven’t put myself out there. I’m pansexual and recently recognized that I’m polyamorous, so you would think I’d have no trouble finding more than one intimate partnership. But, alas, I’ve found no one.

Now I’m ok with being alone — at least until he’s next to me. I know I’m coming from a place of profound grief, still holding onto hope that we could reunite. I realize I might find someone after I swear off dating, since the Universe tends to work that way. But I just can’t anymore with modern-day dating practices.

I tried dating apps — what a ridiculous concept. We search on tiny screens for a tiny glimpse into who we are and what we might be together. And we wonder why it doesn’t work out when we meet. It feels so wrong, when live humans interactions often feel so right.

I’ve found love only a few times in fifty years on this planet. When I did, I didn’t have to question it. Trust me, when you find love, you’ll know. I know it’s rare, but is it too much to ask to find it again without counterintuitive measures like online dating?

Why use Match.com for a love connection when you can meet the guy or gal next door? What possessed me to keep trying to find someone on a dating app, I don’t know. I rarely date, anyway. I prefer to meet in person and pay attention to how we feel. I like to develop a friendship and see where it takes us. If we feel a vibe and we’re compatible, then we can choose to deepen our relationship.

Still, dating is a tool for discovering compatibility and chemistry with someone. You hope to find both, or at least a lot of one or the other. Most of us want both, which can be hard to find in one person.

I’m all about finding that rare gem of a human who can ignite passion and share values. Who doesn’t want that, right? I was lucky enough to find it with a soul mate — or maybe he was a twin flame.

We were once a perfect match. It was wonderful until things fell apart. We were friends, first drunk, then sober. Then years later, we dated and fell in love. I haven’t been the same since he left. It’s been almost 15 years as of this writing since we had our first date.

I didn’t need to date him — I just knew. Although it took us years to be ready for each other, we eventually were, and everything clicked. We were both in our mid-30s and presumably working on ourselves. It was awesome when we were both healthy and sober together — until one of us wasn’t anymore.

Before I was with Joaquin*, I hadn’t dated much. I was drunk or loaded during my twenties, so I mostly slept around. It wasn’t because I desired casual sex, either. I was looking for love in shady places. I wasn’t able to experience a typical relationship progression.

When I tried dating for a brief period in my thirties, it made for some fun stories. But I’d often strike out when it came to love. So when Joaquin and I got together, I never wanted to date again. I was monogamous back then and wanted to be with him forever.

That’s why it seems impossible to find a new partner who fills that space. And I can’t be that for them, either. My heart is elsewhere. That’s why I’m not dating until I meet someone like Joaquin. Correction: a healthy version of Joaquin. Or specifically Joaquin, in his healthiest state.

And will I find a brighter, shinier Joaquin-like human on Bumble? Probably not. I have nothing against dating. But apps? Not a fan. I can’t read people’s energy on a screen, and I don’t want to swipe left on zillions of mismatches based on a few pictures.

I befriend people everywhere, so I can “swipe right” in real life. I appreciate that approach because it’s more obvious if anything is brewing between us. If there’s any fire, I’ll feel it and see it in your eyes. Then we can proceed from there. I’m a fast read if we meet in person, and will know if you’re a potential match.

Occasionally I doubt myself or the other person. There are red flags I can still try to paint green. Yellow flags are the hardest because they’re telling me to wait. I’ve had the hardest time waiting for anything or anyone, and it’s changed my life course.

When I asked my kids’ dad to dance, I had been waiting for Joaquin. He never showed up that night, so I chose a random dude to father my children instead. That’s how I ended up with a stranger in my house, his laughter making me cringe through no fault of his own.

That’s how I felt when he came to visit the other day. I keep feeling weirder because I’m acknowledging the truth — that I made an unusual, uncharacteristic choice that didn’t serve me well.

It’s awkward and sad, but I’m making the best out of it. I’m polite and friendly toward him. I used to try hard to make him significant, but he’s not. We wouldn’t have been friends if I didn’t give birth to our babies. We’d be casual acquaintances with few things in common to sustain a friendship. I wanted to be a mom that bad. Oh, the choices we make.

Because I want a partner that bad, I’m vowing to stay alone. I’d rather be single for the rest of my life than find another person who’s only filling a temporary space. I want it to feel like starlight in our mouths when we kiss. Is that too much to ask? I’m willing to wait a lifetime until I find out.

*Name changed for anonymity

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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From The Good Men Project on Medium

What Does Being in Love and Loving Someone Really Mean?

My 9-Year-Old Accidentally Explained Why His Mom Divorced Me

The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex

The Internal Struggle Men Battle in Silence

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