The Dungeon of Magicmarmot
You are in a cold hall. You notice a small shrine to extrasensory deprivation.
You quaff the potion marked 'SET BUILDING'. You suffer a momentary vision of great asses.
Wow, it's been a while since I've thrown down on the whole dating & relationships front. Of course, it's been a while since I've been actually actively thinking about either, so I suppose it's just fitting.
I'm trying to remember the last time I went on an actual date. By that, I mean a one-on-one spending time together with romantic intent on both our parts (i.e. not "just friends" or business lunches), and it's been a while. Within the past six months, I'm pretty sure. It didn't exactly take.
I kind of got busy in the interim. Whether I got busy to distract myself from not dating or whether it was a side effect of moving forward with my life, I'm not sure.
It's become less of a priority. Barb is at the house, and though we don't actually have much interaction, what we do have is on good terms. There is some stress, though I think less than either of us expected. And as much as I'd like to write off her being at the house as a primary reason for not dating ("Would you like to come inside? Don't mind her, she's just my ex"), truth be told it's more that I'm just not really looking for involvement right now. That may change in the next few weeks as I get more stuff done and more :free time: to play with, but it doesn't seem likely.
Maybe I just don't want the baggage that a relationship would bring. Hell, I have enough of my own baggage to start a Samsonite outlet store, I don't really need to buy into anyone else's. That I even consider this as a first line of thinking is indicative that I don't necessarily see a relationship as a positive thing, but as something of a burden.
So where does that come from? Is it an artifact of my being so grundlefutzing busy lately? Or is it the recall of every past relationship and how I changed to the point of losing my sense of self in order to become who I thought my S. O. wanted me to be?
For the first time in a while, I feel a little like I have a direction. Not a destination, but a series of goals. And they are my goals, not the goals of someone else who I've bought into out of duty. They're also still pretty flexible, or perhaps simply ill-defined, or needing further refinement before they're concrete. Or maybe I'm still half-baked, and it is me that needs further refinement before I feel comfortable sharing myself more deeply with an actual person (instead of the electronic version of sharing that exists here).
Certainly my weight/body shape has a lot to do with it. I'm very much in transition, but I'm still on that way upper end of the transition (figure of my overall goal, I'm at most at 15% after eight months), so I have a long way to go before I fit into that pair of pants from Old Navy (and note that that is simply a social distortion: it's highly unlikely that I'll ever shop for clothes outside of a Big & Tall store anyway, simply because I am not a small guy, and I'm never going to be).
Is that really so important? Altruism says no, because the woman of my dreams would love me for me, and not because I look like an Alice in Wonderland drawing of the Walrus and the Carpenter, and I'm not the one with the hammer. But altrusim is naïve, and looks matter, at least to some degree. The farther you are out on the fringes of the bell curve, the more important looks become. For instance, someone who is badly disfigured in a fire or because of an accident will always have a stigma. Someone who has lost a limb or otherwise had their symmetry destroyed, much the same.
On the other hand, I am able to lose weight, though not easily. I can work on a remedy. I can make progress toward becoming more aesthetically acceptable.
So she turned to me and said "god you're disgusting. Why don't you put down the fistfuls of Snickers and go for a walk", to which I replied "madam, I may be fat, but you are grotesquely ugly; and in the end I can lose weight, but you will be ugly forever." I then punched her in the face and walked over her unconscious body into the parking lot.