The sort of post you don’t want to write. (Autism)

At times, we can deceive ourselves on who we are, what we are and how we perceive ourselves.

There’s no worse prism than dating websites as I’ve learned over the last few years.

I’ve hardly been proactive at it, but at the same time, I do look at women that are around my age and in a similar situation. A realistic viewpoint.

I very much tried not to take it too seriously or be too hopeful from the start.

But, after a while, you do look every night at the screen and wonder and hope.

It’s interesting as there’s so many people. I’m ‘not alone in being alone.’

There’s a myriad of types, looks and personalities. In itself, it’s interesting and a certain sort of online experience. A curiosity.

The main thing I’ve learned is to never expect a reply and even then, never to believe that anything will progress beyond a chat.

There’s lies about age. There’s lies about situations and availability and there’s also some people that just want to serially chat with no actual intention of dating.

In the last few months, I’ve realised that I’m getting nowhere with any site.

It’s a picture game.

Like/dislike, swipe left/right.

Even after that, there’s reading their bio and looking at distances.

I wasn’t seeking a pen-pal or a person to message. I wasn’t seeking anything much really.

My delusion was thinking that I could pick up the reigns again and be able to have another aspect to my life.

I’ve written before about my fear that I could become celibate through circumstance.

I think that’s likely to now be the case and I even have doubts about my ability to cope with another person and their expectations.

I had said to myself that I’d be honest about my condition and my situation.

In most cases I haven’t had to worry that far as my face is doing a good enough job in keeping down any interest.

I had tried occasionally changing the photographs and the biography and sometimes it seems to help.

The learning experience is that it’s not easy to cast yourself out there and expect something. There’s pride and belief that you can do better.

There’s an element of hope, which in itself is a dangerous thing and there’s that random factor and feeling that maybe just this time.

Obviously, it’s far easier to buy a lottery scratch card and get the disappointment over quicker.

‘I’m Chic. I’m 45. Separated father of three. Overweight, balding and greying and I have one of those things… ‘

Yeah. We deceive ourselves, don’t we?

Yeah we do.

More realistically, I can plan to look after myself a bit better, eat better, sleep better and try and live better. Not a grandiose plan, so it has a chance.

I’ve already been able to fill the hours alone and I can be a bit more clever in using my free time. I could learn something or just chill out.

The advice when you internet search ‘giving up dating’ is basically not to.

I think I’ll stick it to the man by giving up.

I hadn’t planned to, I hadn’t thought that I’d be celibate and relatively okay with that. If I need companionship in future, I’ll consider getting a dog.

I don’t want to categorise myself further. I’m still a single straight man. I just won’t be looking for anyone any longer and if happenstance changes then fine.

If I see myself as anything else then fine. I’m in no rush to add another descriptor. I have enough already.

So, that’s what was in my head. It’s brewed a while, but I got there.

Next step. Reading those books on Tao and thinking acceptance and being wiser for experience for once…


1 thought on “The sort of post you don’t want to write. (Autism)

  1. Pingback: A routine Friday | Chic Gibson – A blog of sorts

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