My memory of dating in my 20s is that I had so much in common with so many more men than I do now. Maybe it’s because I was still trying to define myself, my interests, my priorities, etc. and everything was a possibility. Lately, however, I’m feeling more defined, more empowered than ever, and less willing to give up my accomplishments for “True Love,”
I “met” a man online last month. I use the term “met” loosely, because it’s just as unclear to me as the term my friend uses when speaking to a new man on the phone. She calls it a phone date. Again, we would need to define the term “date”, but in my view, arranging to speak on the phone wouldn’t qualify.
In any case, I haven’t physically met this man, but he wrote to me through the dating service and we emailed a few times. He has a nice face; is intelligent in his writing; and is seven years older than I. One email led to another and we proceeded to the next step – the phone call. Here’s the one detail that makes this anything but normal – He lives in another country. He was born up north in the Bay Area. When he was 25 he visited his ancestral home, loved it, and stayed. They speak another language there. I’m not even sure what side of the road they drive on.
You may, at this point, be asking, “What was he doing looking at women in SoCal?” Good question. I have no clue. His explanation was that it’s a small world, and if you limit yourself to your immediate area, you might miss true love during your lifetime. Aaaahhh, romance. On the flip side, my profile specifically restricts my geographical area of interest to within 25 miles of Santa Clarita. Unless the gentleman loves driving – a lot, it’s probably just going to cause problems down the line. I speak from experience.
The phone call was difficult because of the distance. His words were muffled and I kept asking him to repeat his sentences. After a few calls, he fixed the technical problems and I found that I enjoyed conversing with him. So the question came up – can I see myself moving from the U.S. in the future, or am I bound and determined to die here? Well, quite honestly, I hadn’t completely decided where I would live when I retire. He asked me when that would be. I explained that I’d be done working in just under 10 years, at the minimum. Ten years? I don’t know why he was shocked. I’m 50, it makes mathematical sense. He wanted to know if I’d consider leaving before that? Well, no. I wouldn’t. I’ve worked hard for my pension and the guarantee of at least minimal financial security which, if I leave early, I throw away. But he didn’t seem to understand. Why would I remain a slave to my job, when I could live, in love, with someone for the rest of my life? Is this a typical double standard, or am I just stubborn and unyielding?
Write to Julie: writelove@sbcglobal.net