There is something I haven't told you.
I have an active profile on an internet dating site. (Pele will say, "I have to read your blog to find out what is going on in your life!")
Did I say I would never do that again? I think not because I'm careful to "never say never." I haven't paid a cent to this site and I probably won't. I signed up on a whim a couple of months ago. I was not deluged with responses, maybe because this site makes it hard to contact people without paying something.
And you know what? I just didn't care. I wasn't checking in every day, obsessively monitoring who was viewing me and who had "winked" at me. I did get a few emails at first, and I responded, but the conversations weren't interesting or the guy lived too far away for me to bother. Mostly I ignored the whole thing.
Every once in a while I'd get a notice that the site had found new matches for me. I might check on those matches or I might delete the email. If someone looked promising, I might send a (free) wink. Some of guys responded to my winks with an email. If any of those guys I winked at had ever winked back (which is free), I would have spent the money to send an email, but no one did.
And I didn't care. I wasn't sad or disappointed or relieved. I just didn't care.
I also got a couple of emails in February to which I didn't respond. They weren't creepy but there was nothing there that interested me. I broke my rule of giving a polite "thanks, but no thanks" to emails. I read them once or twice and let them be.
I just didn't care.
When I got back from my trip a week ago, I had an email from the site, and I logged in. It turned out that in March, three guys had winked at me. The site hadn't bothered to let me know, and I hadn't logged in for weeks so I hadn't noticed. One of the winks looked interesting. The guy's profile made me laugh. His picture was…appealing (though not informative enough). He sent the wink maybe five days before I saw it. I winked back.
When the guy returned my wink with an email, I actually had a couple butterflies.
His email, like his profile, was funny, modest and indicated intelligence. He also said I was cute. A long time ago I wrote, "I will probably marry the next guy who gets my jokes and who thinks I'm hot." This guy thinks I'm cute and he makes me laugh. The email exchange we're having is very good. Interesting, low key, funny. I sent him my number. He said he'll call me, but that didn't stop him from also writing a real email response. And he didn't try and pass the buck by offering up his number. Gotta like that.
Yet, if nothing comes of it, I don't think there will be much of an ego blow or disappointment or sadness--because I just don't care.
This not caring business is good stuff.
Before you jump all over me, let me tell you what I mean. I haven't stopped caring or trying or anything. What I've stopped doing is pushing, expecting and waiting. I'm taking care of myself, having a good time with my friends and making opportunities to meet new people. Beyond that, I give up. There's nothing more I can do. I know what I want. I'm not too idealistic, nor have I given up hope. I'm very hopeful. I always have been. No matter how hard I try to be jaded and cynical, I can't make that fly. Sure, it feels nice to be interested in someone—but I can enjoy that feeling without pinning all my hopes for the future on it.
I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and try and carry this attitude into the rest of my life.
For example—the jungle my yard (front and back) is destined to become this summer because the condo mates will never lift a finger about it? I just don't care. I like jungles. I do my part: I pay the bills, balance the books (I am the treasurer), and I organized the repair of our fence with about zero help from them. If they are content to have our yard be an ugly, overgrown mess, so be it.
Obviously, I need to work on this not caring thing a little bit more.
Grateful for: caring.
Drop me a line.
P.S. If you don't know what the title references, here's a hint.