I was just sitting at the table, thinking about one certain thing in life that I have always had a hard time trying to understand. And if you remember how my mind works, you know it can go deep. The thing I have never been able to get is having a partner by my side.
Because I am about to get real with you right now.
I am forty years old. And yes, that is me in those photos on my website. I cannot tell you how many times I have been told that I cannot be forty. People tell me I look thirty. One person thought I was in my twenties, and a couple months ago, a cashier asked for my ID because she was not sure. Her face said it all: WTF? Then she smiled. I understand that reaction.
But that is not the real part I was talking about.
The part I was going to get real about is this: I am a virgin. Yes, I have never had sex, and I have never really dated anyone before.
I love my brother, but he loves to tease me about being a forty-year-old virgin. Why, you ask? Because of the movie The 40-Year-Old Virgin with Steve Carell. It is a hilarious movie.
Sure, some of you might think it is funny. Some of you might not know what to say, maybe out of pity or maybe because you are speechless. Some of you might be wondering, “How the hell did you go this many years without sex?” I even had someone tell me he could not survive without eating down there. Yes, he really did say that. He is a sex freak and loves everything about women, and that is fine. For me, I do not see women that way.
The real part about it is that I hate being touched. When it comes to hugging, give me time to prepare for it so I can be aware of it. Some of you may wonder why that happens. It is a wild guess, and I am pretty sure, maybe 100% sure, that you already know why. That part is really fucking real. Too real. I would break down talking about it, so I am not going to open that wound yet. Maybe one day, when I have the courage, I will talk about that part.
I talk about relationships because there is a hole in me that wants a partner. Then I realized you may wonder one thing about me, so let me pause here.
Straight? Bi? Gay? Asexual? Pansexual? Among many other words. Maybe you are curious. If not, no big deal.
Right now, I do not really know what label fits me. It is not because I am against labels. Society already separates us in so many ways, and that could be a whole topic on its own. But for me, I have not had sex with women or men, and I have not had the kind of relationship that helped me understand where I belong. So for now, I am just me.
I surround myself with many female friends. I do not look at them and go, “Damn, she is hot.” I do not treat women that way. Not because they are fragile, but because it is so easy for me to talk to women. They know how to talk with feelings. Remember, I mentioned in another blog post that I am an emotional guy.
Okay, I am going to unpause here. Talking about relationships is a little hard for me because part of me wants to have a partner. I want someone to be there when I come home from work. I want someone to put their arms around me from behind, give me a kiss here and there, and ask how my day went. I want someone on my side who knows me inside and out, who knows every nook and cranny about me, my fears, my icks, and what I love and hate.
And it goes both ways. I want to know my partner too. I want to ask about their day and know everything about them.
I have seen many relationships have their ups and downs. Breakups happen because one partner cheated, or because someone lied, or because someone was just an asshole. I could list more, but I do not want to.
I have a friend who celebrated his 14th anniversary about four months ago with his lovely wife, who brings love and joy with her laugh and smile. I will not use their names because I want to respect them. They may read this and know it is them. Hopefully.
His wife and I have a lot in common. She is very understanding when I have conversations with her because we both feel a lot. We both use our emotions. Sometimes she makes me laugh just by being herself. One thing I love about her is that she has a short attention span, and I noticed it when I asked her a question and she looked away to focus on something else while I was standing there.
Get this: she may not notice it, but sometimes I time her to see how long it takes before she realizes she has not answered. Then she makes this cartoon-like face, like she forgot to answer. Her best time was about a minute and a half. I start laughing because she is funny, and her amazing personality makes the home feel safer.
Also, sometimes I forget that my best friend is Deaf, and I talk to his wife without signing. I feel bad about that, but he never seems to mind.
Anyway, their marriage has had a lot of ups and downs, and I have seen them push through it all. I remember a few times when they had huge arguments. Both of them got really heated, and somewhere in there, communication got lost. But somehow, they never just pushed it aside and forgot about it. They worked on it when they were calm. They talked. The next thing I knew, they were laughing and teasing each other again.
I envy that.
I am not jealous of them. I just envy what it feels like to have that kind of love between two people. My friend got lucky, and the universe sent her his way. Now they are having another child. They made me feel like part of the family, like a family friend. I have known their son since he was three, maybe four, maybe older. Time flies.
I have another friend in a relationship. I got to see him after many years. Oh, I forgot to mention that this friend and my other friend had known me for a while, a while.. Gosh, I feel so old. No offense to you.
I met his wife for the first time, and I felt this instant connection. I really enjoyed listening to her and talking with her. I could see a strong love between my friend and his wife. They really do love each other. His wife is all about helping people, and her kindness spreads like wildfire. You can feel it. I loved her attitude and the way she carries herself like an alpha female, but not in a way that takes over their relationship. She knows what is what, and she tells it like it is.
Talking with her made me feel so at ease, as if all my worries had melted away. She understood me when I told her about my life and the traumas I have dealt with, listening with a depth of empathy that was rare to find. Each word I shared seemed to resonate with her, creating a comforting space where my vulnerabilities felt accepted rather than judged. It was refreshing to open up about my experiences, knowing that someone was genuinely invested in my story and the emotions that accompanied it. The way she nodded and responded with thoughtful insights made me realize that I wasn’t alone; my struggles were acknowledged, which lifted a weight off my shoulders.
Yes, you were right. This part is for my friend: I did like her.
Back to the point. I am not going to tell you exactly how she helps others, because what she is doing is empowering love in women. God, I love that. I watched them together, smiling all around, teasing each other to make each other laugh. They are both very competitive, and yet their love is incredibly strong. They do not overpower each other. When one of them starts to overpower the other, they realize they have to step back a little, while still keeping their strength intact.
I learned a lot about my friend from his wife, and from him as well when he came over to my other friend’s house to chat. I am amazed by how he got through his own mental traumas and how his wife stayed on his side, reinforcing him. What kind of stuff, you ask? I am not going to tell you, because that is his story to tell, not mine. I was envy how he got past through his walls and his traumas, I know it still there but what his wife told me that he had changed and improved so many ways after his life changing event, again, it not my story, it’s his.
The point is, I look at my friends and see how amazing their relationships are. I was angry, but not at them. I think I was angry at myself, because apparently I chose not to be with someone a long time ago because of some incidents. Then I went so long without it that I got used to it, until I saw both of them recently.
I was sitting on the couch at my friend house and thinking, “Why the fuck did I choose not to be with someone just because being alone was easier?”
I did have a few relationships of my own. Two were in upper elementary school, and two were in middle school. My last and final so-called “relationship” was back in middle school. I believe it was eighth grade. She and I were together for a month or so. It was awkward for me because I did not feel right being with girls. I think I realized when I entered high school that I had no intention of loving girls in that way.
Anyway, in my last relationship, she cheated on me with my childhood best friend. I remember that betrayal. I was so angry and pissed. I never confronted her because the next day she was not with me anymore, and she did not even let me know we were over.
I remember how much I wanted to call her a bitch, among other words. Then I realized, in that moment, why am I getting so pissed off? I was not interested in girls, or even in her. I think it was the fact that she chose my childhood friend over me. That sent me spiraling into darkness, wondering if it was because I was big-boned or ugly.
That was the moment it started for me. I did not want to go through that with someone again. My mind kept telling me, “This person felt sorry for you,” or “You are useless,” among many other things. I already mentioned how my mind works 24/7. That was when I started being alone for a while, and then I got used to it.
Now I am starting to have feelings for certain people, and I realize my body is telling me that maybe I should have my other half, or my better half.
You know what the worst part is? Here is me being real.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom, which I should remember to organize better, and I saw myself. I did not like him. I hated the way I looked. I hated how big my body was, and I hated the way I was shaped. I saw myself with tears coming out of my eyes because I actually hated myself so much that I accepted the idea that no one would love me like this.
I started to have low self-esteem. No confidence in myself or my body. I was always worried that someone would not like me because I was too big, or because I was not enough for them. If you guessed it right, this is where it got worse, because I started spiraling like crazy. I remember not looking in the mirror for months. I was quiet and distant for a while too.
Another real thing is this: I would love to have someone. That is one of the core things happening with me and my mental health. Both are starting to degrade and shut down.
I would love to have someone tell me that I am worth it, even though my brain would probably filter it out as something bad. But this person would know the bad parts of me and still want to be with me. No matter how bad I get when I shut down, that person would take me to the couch and let me curl up near them. They would hold me in their arms until I realized, this person does love me.
I mean, this is where I hate myself now.
I have even tried talking to people on dating apps, but I found myself deleting the account because it sent me into a frenzy of panic attacks. Yeah, I do get panic attacks, which I will talk about one day. I kept thinking, “Oh shit, am I really talking to them? They responded back?” Then my brain warped it and lost it, throwing thousands of bad things at me that could happen. I deleted the account and the app instantly.
That feeling started a few years ago, and it has built up so much over the years. I am never going to blame my friends or their marriages, because they are happy, and that matters to me.
But why cannot my happiness matter to me?
Honestly, I had a hard time writing that sentence. I broke down with a few tears and had to push myself to write it.
And I do not know how to close this blog in the right way, or whether I should leave you hanging with more questions about me. I will leave that up to you in the comments section.
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