never married, over forty, a little bitter

the crazy-making

Needless to say, I never heard from that guy again, the one from a few weeks ago who I admired so much and hit it off with so well. I’ve learned that when the disappearing act occurs I’ll feel irritated and snappy for a few days but then, like most women, I’ll just move on. Pretty soon I’ve forgotten the dude altogether. This is what we’re advised to do, and I’m unsure what the other options would be, but it doesn’t seem to approve the overall dating landscape when nobody ever gets called on the carpet!

You’re finally dating. You’ve worked through the early stages of dating communication weirdness and you’re on the other side. Things are moving right along. You are literally saddling up the horse to ride off into the sunset to Happily Ever After when . . . he vanishes. Poof! Gone, without a trace. Last night he sent you a sweet “Good night, beautiful” text and conveniently left off the: “Have a nice life.” You literally go from talking multiple times a day and seeing each other multiple times a week to checking the sides of milk cartons for his face. WHAT WENT WRONG? Unfortunately, in these types of situations, you rarely ever get real closure. Usually the guy just disappears into the night, never to be seen or heard from again


Most of all, I miss men who value and are attracted to the intelligence of a woman. I had so many male friends back then. If one had to leave for class, there were 10 more who might walk in the door. I had plenty of options, and each friend had a special talent or skill that intrigued me. They were all solid individuals that each shone with incredibly bright lights. Every so often, something would happen that would remind me I was a female, but most of the time, I was included as a genderless equal. It’s hard to explain. Yes, we were men and women, but we were also academics. Our gender didn’t matter as much as our minds. Our ideas freely flowed without our genitals making a difference.

As I’ve aged, gender has become an incredible force to be reckoned with. I first knocked into it in the workplace as a young woman. Then, it became more obvious in my friendships. As time went on, lines got drawn. Males separated into one group, and females went into the other. Couples formed, marriages happened, and more lines were drawn. Then came the kids — the fully-formed Families. I wouldn’t even call them lines now. They’re walls. Big, ugly walls with no handholds.