Well, Why Waste Time?

Dearest Rachel –

When we walk through the woods, Lars will often ask me about my romantic life, such as it is; whether I’ve found anybody out here in the ether – or at church or whatever circles I make my way through in life – and how things have been progressing. Considering that he’s essentially given up on finding anyone himself (and in his practice, he’s apparently met more than his share of unhappy couples, buttressing his opinion that he’s not missing anything), I wonder why it would concern him, apart from any concern for me personally. For all I know, it might simply amuse him that I’m still trying to find someone to fill the space you left behind.

Most of the time, there’s not much to report – even when I have an iron or two in the fire, things don’t change much from week to week – but strangely enough, things have gone a little crazy in the runup to my return back home. All of a sudden, I’ve been getting this person and that sending me a like, as well as email addresses and phone numbers. Granted, those that do so tend to get their profiles stripped by the dating app’s moderators, and for good reason; they’re usually misrepresenting themselves, for reasons I don’t stick around to discover. I’ve had to turn away three Kazakh girls (assuming that’s really what they were, and not some bot from who-knows-where – not that Kazakhstan isn’t already who-knows-where) in the past couple of weeks, and I’ve gotten a little tired of it, to be honest.

But every so often, I wind up actually talking to someone real, and it’s a pleasant thing to engage in, even when I know it’s not going to work out. Cyana (not her real name, but a near-anagram) actually sent me a like and got the conversation started. To be honest, that’s how all of my interactions go at this point; I don’t want to be the one initiating the conversation, lest I come across as creepy and aggressive. It means that very little ever actually happens, of course, but when it does, I make sure to answer what questions are asked.

This is where Lars comes back into the picture. The other day, I mentioned this situation to him (which included having to explain the expression ‘blowing up’ in this context – you can imagine his alarm at my using a phrase that, let’s just say, tends to be a catastrophically negative occurrence). He asked me what I had told Cyana about myself, to which I responded that I answered to everything I could (to be honest, some of her text bubbles were rather on the largish size, and I might have missed a thing or two). Once again, he seemed alarmed.

“You shouldn’t be telling her everything about yourself,” he cautioned me. “You don’t know what she might do with that information.” And he’s right about certain topics; salary and wealth being foremost among them. Apparently, back in the day, when I first brought you home while you were still in college, there was a point where you met Lars, as well as our mutual friends Jack and Clara (who we shared Easter and Thanksgiving with, among other times). I think Jack must have talked to you, and later relayed to Lars, as to what a find you were; meanwhile, I was completely in the dark as to what you were worth. Oh, I don’t mean that I didn’t know what you were worth as a person; that’s who I fell for, and wanted to spend my life with. But in dollars-and-cents terms, Jack, an astute businessman, could assess your value in a way that I couldn’t (and I suspect even you weren’t fully aware of until your folks’ passing). At least I’m pleased to think that I never came across as a gold digger. I’m sure this is what Lars was warning me about, in particular.

Thankfully, this never comes up in discussions on the dating app (and I’m certainly not about to talk about it); I’m even cagey about what I do for a living, because I still do it, I just don’t get paid. However, I will lay all my cards on the table when it comes to my belief system, both secular and sacred.

One of the things I’d noticed upon hearing from Cyana, and subsequently examining her profile, was that her political position is diametrically opposite that of mine, which she eventually acknowledged herself. At the same time, she reached out to me, leading me to believe there might still be some common ground between us regardless, if she was willing to converse with me. And if there wasn’t, it was better to find out sooner rather than later.

Dating at our age is a lot different than in our twenties, honey. Everyone is set in their own ways, including me. We have our lives, and while we would wish for someone else to be in them, we can’t seem to change enough to satisfy our would-be ‘Megumi’s. Night owl or morning person? Hamburgers or sushi? Drink water before or after taking pills? I still can’t believe this was a difference between you and me, by the way.

And of course, there are the third rails of conversation; politics and religion. Again, Cyana and I clearly differed on just about everything. Still, she asked about my positions, and I hers. And I saw no point in not making it clear where I stood. It’s one thing when you’re talking to an internet audience, and you don’t want to offend anyone; it’s another when you’re talking to a potential life partner. Can we get along with our differences? What are they, in fact, and how important are they to us? Can we be persuaded to the other side, or can we persuade the other to ours?

Over the course of the past week, I laid out where I stood on a number on hot-button topics, each of which came up in turn. I explained my religious upbringing and why I kept with it, even after studying comparative religions to understand where I stood – or where I should – as well as what prompted it. She claimed I was being too rigid, and that there had to be multiple ways to heaven – she even claimed atheists could attain salvation, and I never got a chance to explain my theory of hell to her (as not so much a punishment, but exactly what they want; an eternity without God) – whereupon I pointed out that even Jesus asked if there could be another way, and received a negative answer. On political topics, she asked about trans rights (to which I gave a bare-bones story of our friend in Otaku Nation dealing with that very situation) and what she refers to as “reproductive rights,” to which I repeat my long-held belief that had Roe vs. Wade been adjudicated (not litigated; for whatever reason, in its fifty years as the de facto “law of the land,” no bills had been proposed nor laws signed to codify it, for some strange reason) some years earlier than it had, I would not exist – and that a great deal of other people, younger than myself, have been denied an existence because of it. Still, throughout all of these discussions, she didn’t seem to raise an objection; at most, it was a live and let live attitude toward our difference of opinion. It was enough to give me hope, of a sort.

Then, however, she asked about a man who had entered the political realm in support of the positions I tend to favor; was I a supporter of his?

To me, this was a strange question; do I support a man, or a series of policy positions? I say it’s the latter, and when there’s only a binary choice for office, you choose the individual who represents your positions on most of the issues that concern you. It’s not a question of the man himself, and it bothers me that anyone would see someone (like myself) who votes in favor of their own interests (whether direct, such as the bread-and-butter economic issues, or indirect, in terms of certain moral positions that I don’t personally have to deal with, but still have an opinion on) as a member of some personality cult. I’ve worded it better here to you, but that’s basically what I tried to say.

For all the positions that I explained, and which she was willing to hear out (much to my surprise, I have to admit), this was a bridge too far for Cyana. She proceeded to say she could never date anyone who backs this man, and promptly blocked me. I can’t even look up her profile anymore.

Not that it bothers me; I wasn’t keen on a drive up to Wisconsin to see her, and based on our profiles, I expected the interaction to collapse at some point. But as long as she was willing to talk – and ask questions of me – I would be willing to respond and answer; it would be up to her to terminate the connection, just as it was hers to initiate.

I don’t know if Lars would disapprove of my laying all these philosophical cards on the table right away like this, but it seems to be better this way. Why waste time trying to pretend to be someone you aren’t, who believes things you don’t, just to impress someone who eventually will disagree with you so vehemently as to walk away like this? Let her walk away now, and save yourself the heartache that might come if you get too invested, that’s what I think. Sure, it limits the theoretical dating pool, but let’s face it; she wasn’t Megumi material from the outset. At the same time, it would have been rude to simply dismiss her, when she approached me. Let us reason together, and if we can’t, we can’t. I’ll at least have said my peace.

At the same time, it’s not that much fun to watch something like this collapse, and rejection, even as expected as this, stings just a little bit. It makes me wonder if finding someone is even possible. But for now, I’m just going to dust myself off and move on. If someone else shows up, I’ll do what I can to tell you about it, but for now, just keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.