I beat a hasty retreat back to my solitary life and decided that this was a good place to stay for a while.
In my 20s I could fall in love every ten meters. I could meet a guy every month and find something about him to get excited about. I even dated this one guy because I liked his eyebrows. There was all the time in the world to settle down.
But there’s a caution that comes with your 30s that I’m not sure I like.
On one side, you have less dating disasters. But on the downside, I rarely if ever meet anyone that thrills me, that sets my imagination wild, that makes me dream things. It’s like I look around and just see a sea of characters that I already think I know and am bored by. It’s so presumptive. Yet it feels true.
I’m not exactly sure how this happens. When I was younger we all had boyfriends, but because we were always out all the time (being young and pre-online days) that there would be me and my friends and a changing cast of guys we dated that were like guest stars on our show.
Some would stay for a week, others for yeas and some guys forever. But we always were busy with new and fascinating cast members.
Now I look at my single friends and think, why are these the only interesting gay men I know? We are all passionate, have careers, are of means and all attractive. And all single? What’s that all about?
And the people out there that I meet in bars are dull, aimless, getting by and usually drunk.
And if by chance one of us does meet someone, we disappear off the face of the earth. I’ve had a few times in my 30s where I’ve felt like the last man-child standing.
So I made do with the company of my dear friend, good old longing. I don’t know that it’s a bad emotion. It means that you haven’t given up. But I was getting a little bored of his constant company.
And just when I thought that this was how it was going to be again for yet another year in LA, something I had forgotten about returned. My lawyer called me and said that my final Greencard interview had been scheduled.