In the process of unpacking I came upon this little desktop picture frame. You know, the kinds that house a beloved aunt, parent, bosom buddy… or girlfriend.
My little picture frame’s been vacant for quite some time. So I thought I’d put a temporary placeholder in there for now, like I was reserving the space for her before she got here. Sort of a mental note on the order of: “1 dozen eggs, quart of milk, and one girlfriend.”
The caption of my crude stick figure (figurine?) reads:
Insert girlfriend here
Short, to the point.
Of course, where exactly the rubber hits the road on this one is well beyond me. And that brings me to back to the Moratorium.
Much as I hate to admit allegiance with the likes of Joshua Harris’ minions and the Kissing Dating Goodbye campaign, I have initiated a moratorium of sorts on dating. This came about around a month ago when I was in talks with a buddy of mine. Although for my purposes, the reasoning was slightly modified from Mr. Harris’ blueprint. In my case, my friend and I observed that I seemed to exhibit an almost masochistic habit of failing to network as widely as I could. It’s all part of the self-imposed Islander mentality: i.e., abandoning civilization in favor of more safe (read: solitary) environs. Unhealthy, yes, I know.
Coupled with the fact that I’d come out of a not-to-recent breakup with an equally unhealthy sense of urgency. Hence, to keep myself from fretting about spying dating prospects rather than just relaxing and meeting people of the opposite sex, I levied the Moratorium. The thinking goes: remove the pressure, the platonic friend count goes up. That has to be a good thing, right?
Last weekend’s Denver Post had a funny article about online dating called “Spontaneity Need Not Apply” by Vic Vogler. He expresses some familiar dissatisfaction with the online dating experience. It’s possible that it’s only funny to those that have lived the foibles of online dating, how it has a way of positively removing bad choices, but adversely sapping the element of chance. Vogler sagely notes, “Being open to love is different from chasing it.”
Now Anna Broadway, witty writer of the Sexless in the City blog, would wholeheartedly disagree with me on instantiating the Moratorium. Or at least, so it would seem. Although, Anna doesn’t offer any real alternative, just frustration with what dating abstinence usually yields.
Regardless, let me state that I’m open (oh, so very open!) but I’m not chasing the girlfriend-in-the-picture-frame like I used to. It’s not worth the heartache.
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