Well, it's been a year

Hello old friends!  I suppose this blog continues to die a long quiet death, as I pipe up every year or so with an update but also don't have much to say.

What to say?

The person I referred to as The Crush continues to be a steady presence in my mind and in my life.  I see her rarely--probably an average of once every six weeks or so--but we're in frequent contact.  We haven't ever really talked about the nature of our relationship, but I have told her I'm glad to have her in my life, as the thought of never seeing her again (as I thought likely a year ago) was pretty devastating.  I still overthink the entire thing (i.e. what does it mean when she doesn't reply to a text?) but less so now that our friendship has solidified.  At the beginning of the year I had a mental list of five very specific conversations I wanted to have with her; we've had all but one.  And I know if I ask the right question at the right time, we will.  (To be clear, that might take a fair amount of gin.)

No random person I could meet on a dating app could come close.  And besides, I really don't want to be dating.  I just finished reading The Other Significant Others, which thinks seriously about intense friendships.  Like Elseship, like Nothing Wanting, like Single at Heart these are books that remind me I don't need to want a romantic partner.  The problem isn't me; it's a culture that thinks partnership is the answer to loneliness.  Yes, it is an answer; it is not the answer.  The particular shade of my loneliness has to do with single parenting my particular kid at this particular time in my life.  That is a time limited problem.

There's a part of me that thinks I could be really happy in 5+ years, after Tiny Boy moves out, living in some kind of "retirement" community (to be clear, I won't have retired by then) or other co-living situation because what I really want--I think--is daily interaction and emotional intimacy with good adult friends but not romantic/sexual entanglement.  The particular shade of my loneliness is not the lack of a "partner" but the fact that almost everyone else I know IS partnered or deeply enmeshed.  I am thinking of my college and graduate school years, in particular, when I lived with or very near to others in my program and we would go to the gym at 7 am or watch a show together on a Sunday night (The X-Files, mostly) and then I'd go next door to my own apartment.  I was really happy in those days, I think.

And if you'll excuse me now, I'm going to go check in on The Crush.