Unfinished Love Story

I've always been a firm believer in finishing what I start.

I set out to get a degree in music. Check.

I wanted to move from Minnesota to Arizona to get out of the cold. Check. I live in a great town. Not too hot or cold, not too big or small.

I earnestly desired to teach music. Check, for 39 years!

I loved the idea of being a mom. Check, two times for my beautiful daughters.

I wanted to own a home. Check.

I decided to be an author. Check, for a four-book series, a short poem booklet, and hundreds of pieces on Vocal.

Were there bumps along the way? Of course. Show me someone who claims their life is bump-free and I'll know they're a liar.

So, what is the story that remains unfinished to date and why is it "Not Quite There?"

That would be my personal love life. Oh, I've been in love. I've been married. Twice. I've been widowed. Twice.

At 61 years old, should my love story be over? Should I be content living alone? Plenty of people have found love later in life. I researched famous ones. There's a pretty extensive list, including George Clooney, Kianu Reeves, Kim Catrall and Paul McCartney, among others.

I'll be retiring in just one year. The thought of having strings of days with no one in my house makes me sad.

Don't get me wrong. I like my own company. I like choosing what to watch. I have eclectic tastes. One night, I may be drawn to comedy, the next drama, adventure, or something historical. No one tells me what to listen to. If I want to blast some metal, that is my prerogative, as long as I'm not disturbing the neighbors. I can perform on my flute or on a keyboard at my whim. I alone choose what to eat and where to set the thermostat (I've had it completely off for four months now.) If I want to go on a trip, no one is stopping me.

The very thing that makes that liberating also makes it lonely. Yet, finding a new partner yet again would not only be an adjustment, but— more than that— it feels daunting.

Where to even start?!

Online? There are lots of dating apps. Maybe, but what if the men I find attractive are boring, or too talkative, or want me to move? What I find one I'm interested in, only to discover that he's been projecting an image and not showing me his real personality? What if he's a gold-digger? There may not be a lot of gold in my coffers, but I'd like to hang onto my hard-earned savings.

Speed dating? That seems scary to me, and my town probably doesn't have that option. I think I'll just go ahead and write that one out of the story.

Do I go to parties or bars on the off chance of meeting Mr. Right? There are reasons to be skeptical. I tend to be shy at parties and bars, unless I'm with someone I know. Maybe I'm the boring one(?) I'm kind of a home body, and going out by myself seems desperate, sketchy, and unlikely to yield good results. Another "no."

A set-up? My youngest daughter even told me when I'm ready that she would help with that. I don't know. She lives in northern California.

Again, all of this is daunting.

I think I have a lot to offer, but so do many "younger models," along with their younger bodies.

Speaking of bodies, what about sex? Will this new guy be compatible, or will he be impotent? That usually happens to men at some point. I happen to enjoy sex, so I hope that door hasn't closed.

Too many unknowns. Too many questions. The very fact that I don't have answers for the unknowns and questions for now is the reason this story remains unfinished.

For now, I'm willing to wait at least another year until I retire. I'll maintain the status quo and see what happens when I have more time on my hands.

...but if you're Mr. Right, drop me a comment and leave your heart.