Seeking Charles Christmas

When I was in the eighth grade, I had a major crush on my good friend Patty's boyfriend. I know, scandalous. His name was Charles Christmas, and he was the cutest little blerd that you ever did see. He had chocolate skin and glasses and wore polos and khakis. He was annoying as most boys are at that age, but I remember thinking that he was super smart and handsome. I like-ed him for real, for real, but had to keep it under my hat because I didn't want to be a bad friend to Patty, and I was in a relationship with a boy who, in another year, would come out as gay.

I lost touch with him after middle school, except for one conversation when I was on a college break. I saw him out some place. He gave me his number, and I called him. He was pretty rude, which was not how I remembered him to be. I found this to be very disappointing, especially since he was even cuter. Unfortunately, he had traded in his polos for tall tees. I don't know why people can't be themselves. 

About a month ago, I went on Facebook and saw that he had posted a video of himself working out really hard, which, of course, led me to do a deep dive. It looks like he does something having to do with real estate. He works out a lot, and he has a daughter. He must make good money because his pictures indicate that he has traveled the world from corner to corner. However, he is hardly ever with anybody. He seems pretty lonely. Tiesh reminded me that someone has to be taking the pictures on his vacations. I imagine this could possibly be a sexy, equally fit girl. Yet he looks and feels pretty single. He is bald now and has a super hot salt and pepper beard. If he truly is single, I am not sure why. 

Studying his pictures on Facebook makes me think about the movie Our Souls at Night with Jane Fonda and Robert Redford. In the movie, Jane asks if Robert would spend the night with her so that she wouldn't feel so lonely at night, and that blossoms into a love affair. I say that to say that a guy I met last year told me that I need to learn how to straight-up ask for what I want. Hm. I thought about what would possibly happen if I asked Charlie to talk to me three times a week on the phone. This would put a masculine presence in my life and give my friends a break from me. I don't think that we would fall in love, but this would add a spice to my life. 

As you have probably guessed, I am really nervous to put myself out there like this. What if he makes a Facebook post about how desperate I am and tags everyone we went to school with, including Patty?! I would be mortified! Or he could give a simple no. Or he could say yes. Or he could not answer. As the guy who I met last year had warned, you don't get anywhere being scared. I will let you all know if I get some guts to reach out anytime soon. 

The Last Single VDay

Yet another Valentine's Day is coming up and I don't have a valentine. In all honesty, I haven't had a good V-Day since I was 19. At 19, I don't know what I would have said if someone would have told me that that would be my first and last Valentine's Day ever. How pathetic! This is truly the stuff that depressing romantic comedies are made of.
I guess the good news is that I am not alone this year. Even some of my smart, gorgeous, professional girlfriends will be spending February 14 with Mr. Netflix. And they are all saying that it's alright, that they are actually looking forward to a good, quiet evening alone. I'd believe them if they weren't saying this through clenched teeth and tears. Even my aunt asked me if she should send herself flowers to her job. I told her that that was a stern no, but I may take it back. Someone should get roses on the most romantic day of the year, even if said person has to mail them to herself.
You would have laughed at me if you would have seen me this weekend going to my writer's group. I was dressed as if I had a Valentine's Day date that very afternoon with Idris Elba! I mean, I looked gorgeous! But I wasn't being hot just to be hot: I was trying to get Ryan's attention. I got there too late to sit next to him, so I was literally trying to mentally and spiritually connect with him during the meeting. The prayers went over his head. He did, like everyone else, comment on how cute I looked. That made me smile for a second until I realized that his compliments did nothing to change my state of valentinelessness.
Why is this so hard? I'm not looking for love, just a free meal and a cheek kiss! For some reason, I want to blame social media.
Next year I will be 35 and I will have a V-Day date even if it kills me. If the past years are a prediction of the future, I better get my final affairs in order.

The Lonelies

I'm lonely.
This is something that I already knew, but now my loneliness is starting to manifest in my behaviors. For example, I have recently picked up the weird pastime of sitting in my room in the dark and watching Facebook videos of people getting zits and blackheads popped on their faces. If that doesn't scream lonely...and weird, I don't what does!
Then, of course, there was my unfortunate slip into a one-way Instagram obsession with a male dancer two months ago. The less said about that the better.
I have been told that the best way to beat loneliness is to get out and be active. I would, but it's cold outside. I have also been told that exercise is a good remedy for beating the blues, and I would totally exercise, but I am fat and lazy.
The only thing that I really have the energy to do is write in my journal and crawl up on my floor with the lights off. I find it peaceful, the combination of darkness and listening to myself breath.
In these moments of silence, I can not help but reflect on how I have deluded myself into believing that the loneliness would just zap away if I had a dude to cuddle with during these bone chilling Atlanta nights. Knowing deep down inside that this would only make matters worse, I have gone on Amazon to price an oversized bear that I can hug on while I sleep.
Have any tips on how to beat winter lonelies? Let me know. I'm open to anything that doesn't involve a lot of work. But for now, I must go. Time for my favorite lonely pastime ever: watching The Office on Netflix until I doze off.

The Bedtime Beau Theory

I'm lonely.
Because of this, I made the tragic mistake of going to Netflix on my phone to watch a romantic movie. In case you didn't know, this is typically a HUGE lonely girl no-no. You either walk away from the movie feeling worse or better because you fell for the huggy, kissy BS. Neither one is good.
Anyway, I came across a movie called Our Souls At Night, starring Robert Redford and Jane Fonda. It's about two lonely widowers that decide to cure their loneliness by sleeping together at night because, and this is real talk, the lonelies really get bad at night. And there was no hanky panky. Just talking and light cuddling until they fell asleep. I swear I cried. IT WAS LIKE THEY WERE READING MY MIND! This is what I have been looking for all along!
In the movie, Jane Fonda bravely marches over to Rob's house and is all like, "I'm lonely, you're lonely, let's sleep together. And really sleep, no funny business." And like a man playing hard to get, Robert is all like, "Let me think about it." Then he calls her the next day and is like, "I'm in!" I found myself applauding the lady Ms. Jane Fonda was playing for her bravery. If only I had the balls to ask a man for what I want: some erection-free bedtime cuddling.
The movie wasn't over for three minutes before I went from liberated back to depressed. I haven't met a man in ten years that I would even want to share my bed with, platonically or otherwise. And yes, this is metaphoric because I sleep on my aunt's living room floor. But I understand that what I liked about Rob and Jane's relationship was the intimacy. They were talking. They were sharing. They were caring. THESE DUDES OUT HERE DO NOT TALK, SHARE, OR CARE! The only way I would feel comfy with any of them in my theoretical bed would be if we were in the middle of the ocean, sailing on it to freedom for some reason. I couldn't imagine bedtime with the last guy I was talking to, a barber that wouldn't even offer me emotional support without trying to get me to promise to something physical.
So I guess I am looking for my Robert Redford. I just hope I am not his age when he finally comes along.