In 2019, I attended a friend’s cookout. I was not there to meet anyone. In fact, I was anti-meeting anybody at that point. My mindset was, I’m just here to have fun amongst friends. So when I met the guy who would eventually become my boyfriend, I thought he was fun. He had a good sense of humor and we had good banter. But I wasn’t thinking about us officially connecting. Even when he said, “Let’s exchange information.” The way things go, guys say they want your number, they say they’re going to call and you never hear from them again.
But for about a month we communicated on the phone — calls and texts. After returning from a trip, I asked him to meet me for breakfast. After that we were effectively dating.
At the time, both of us were in our early 50s. He was a widower who had lost his wife less than five years earlier. Everything was so effortless. He was consistent. There was lots of communication. He listened and really wanted to get to know me. We had really good chemistry and became good friends. He really wanted to spend time with me. He was the one who was making all of the first moves, which was so refreshing.
It was clear he was my boyfriend when he called one Friday night and said he had some guy friends in town, but he would rather hang out with me, his girlfriend.
That was all new for me. I was used to hanging out by myself or with my girlfriends on the weekends. I have made some bad decisions [when it comes to dating]. I’ve dated men who talk a good game, but it ends up being the same thing that it was before — not knowing when I’m going to see the person, the person forgetting birthdays, half-ditch efforts to do things, not seeing the person on weekends. It was very frustrating and unfulfilling.
And sometimes we get caught up in the physical aspects of the relationship. That for me, has been something that caused me to go in the wrong direction. Before you know it, two years have gone by and you are caught up in some mess.
I think most people have assumed that by a certain age they will be married, and so I am no exception to that. Even though you know the statistics, I never envisioned that in my 50s I would be single. Never. Never thought that. Ever.