wherein i postulate on my own psycho-social disturbancesSeptember 19, 2007
In this post, I will:
1. Provide further evidence that men are just as self-conscious and hold just as many body complexes as any generalized woman.
2. Prove that Long Distance Relationships are both possible and a horrible idea.
Here’s the skinny:
I am an semi-regular user of one popular dating site that will go unnamed for sake of…well, bias. I have met many many men on there of varying quality and quantity, and I have been both pleased and disappointed with the results that come from such meetings. Currently, my conversations have drifted into Brooklyn. His name will be NYC guy for quick referencing when you google me later.
He’s nice. He’s independent. This one has a paycheck, a steady job, a great resume, and the ability to probably get a job anywhere he wants. Or so he claims. He doesn’t have a high school diploma, or any college education, which sucks, but he seems to do be doing well enough, and claims to be a bit of an info junkie (which I doubt to some level, obviously). He’s an attractive man, from what I can see. Granted, he lives in New York, and I’ve yet to meet him in public.
(Note: for public record, I’m notorious for such relationships. Please don’t judge. If you could see my dating pool, you’d fling your love elsewhere, too.)
He’s a smooth talker, and he’s just cocky enough to be sexy. All good things.
However, I am not a pretty man. I am not cut from the same cookie-cutter as most “American boys” seem to be as you watch any brain-washing media suggestion of the male form for ages 14 and up. I am a little rotund in the middle, and…well, we’ll use the word Nordic. I don’t take my shirt off in public, I don’t go swimming, and I have finally found a shize of shirt that isn’t so big I look like I’m wearing a circus tent, but not so small I look I’m in a tube-top.
But I am not ugly at that. I’ve been loved for my body and I’ve been loved for who I am in my body. That said, NYC guy gave a cautionary “oh” at the sound of my tummy.
Sure he tells me that it doesn’t matter. Sure he mentions that he’s sure it’s fine, and that we won’t be able to tell if we really are physically attracted to each other until we meet face to face. Does any of this help me at all? I’ll give you three guesses, and they all start with “no,” and end in periods.
So, while I wait for the time to see him, I get to sit back and stare in the mirror and hope, one more time, that I’ll be enough for a person that I think might be worth being around.
Why, you might ask, do I not approach men in my own area? Easy:
1. The average gay man in this city is either a college freshman or over 30
2. The second largest majority of gay men has the maturity level of a broken condom.
He’s nice, he’s flattering, and he talks to me just dirty enough to keep me interested in him, but he’s showing reservation in something he can’t even qualify, and something that I’m a bit uncomfortable about. What’s a boy to do? Hopefully, I can truck through this one. I’m tired of giving up over little shit?