Well, here’s a role reversal. A guy online thinking he’s not
good enough for me.
My response: “Silly man. That whole ‘league’ thing is a
dating myth.”
Even if there are leagues, I quit. I don’t need that kind of
organization. None of us do. There is no caste system in gay dating.
Just be.
Chat. Meet. See for yourself.
That’s always made perfect sense to me, especially when someone
else initiates the league talk. In this moment, I am living it. No fear. Put
things out there, see what happens. Or doesn’t.
Gotta try. Gotta live.
It’s intimidating
communicating with you. You’re a Greek god and so well-rounded. I’m just me.
Oh, I know that negative self-talk--lifting someone up while assuming one's place in quicksand. Who is he talking about
anyway? Maybe he’s mixing up the online profiles. Silly man, indeed.
I’m tired of talking myself out of possibilities. Sure, Doubt
still festers within me, but I’ve been catching him and cutting him off. It’s
working so far. No doubt, he thinks I will lose my resolve. He’ll have my ear
again and he’ll unleash all he’s been storing up. And another thing…!
But if I cling to profanity, I can hold him off. “Fuck it”
sounds crass but it’s working for me. Doubt and Hesitation don’t know how to
respond. As they take time to regroup, I move on. Let’s see who prevails after
the next bad coffee date.
But I’m not anticipating a bad date. I plan to meet that
silly man, referred to above. I’m confident that I will make my best possible
impression. And I hope he’ll be ready to do the same.
No more league, no more rules. Time to navigate a wholly
original course.
Ready.
Set.
Go.
