jakorte's blog

It really is... unfortunate that I’m a realist.

I’m not about to accept anyone’s spare-my-feelings, candy-coated version of the truth when I have reality based internal and external mirrors.

Better than I used to be, but still not good.

Line up the facts, and then dare to argue with me:
Short, fat, balding, middle-aged, still possibly soon to be jobless, most probably soon to be homeless, cash-broke, half-toothless, trailer park widow.

There’s just not a lot of call for that. Trust me; I’ve been back out there on the dating sites.
Don’t see any point in avoiding the truth about my widowhood. It’s gotta come up sooner or later. I’m not about to waste my time or anyone else’s covering up my “flaw.” The truth seems to scare ‘em.

My long-time friends and life-time family don’t agree with any of my truths, but they’re not walking up to my life’s window for the first time, either. It’s first impressions that count, and that list is an entirely accurate reflection of my present state.

Then consider the past. There’s never been a line at my door. So, where are all these friends’ and families’ fantasies that I will “meet someone” coming from? Fact: I was single for way longer than I was married. And it’s not like I wasn't trying back then, either.

Yeah, nothing is impossible. So, maybe in another 20 years, when everyone my age starts losing their spouses, I’ll be able to trick myself into believing such silliness.

Nah, I’ll probably still be a realist, even then.