I haven’t had a date in three years, but I’m not complaining. I believe my last relationship ended in 2013 and that was with a deranged Italian-American from Brooklyn who had 5 cats and a ferret that would defecate in the doorjamb every morning. She cheated on me (twice) and I cheated on her (twice). The Italian-American, not the ferret.
Turning 49 in a few weeks, I was asked to write something when an old high school friend contacted me. This caused me to think about my relationships over the last 30 years, most of them failures, if you mean by “failure” that I’m not married, nor do I have children.
I think dating abstinence and the writing life are yoked. I mean, what does a writer do but sit around his apartment in the same sweats and t-shirt, conjuring up ideas out of nothing? This is kind of what a single loser does also.
However, I was a prolific dater when I lived in Greenwich, CT, for 15 years and worked in New York City. I was stunned by how many women ended up in my bed during this time and even more stunned by how none is in that bed now.
But, hey, I’m a Gemini.
I tried some online dating when it first started and often went to the city to meet these psychotic creatures. And I did meet some nice people sometimes. One relationship with a lawyer I met at a party, not online, lasted awhile, but I was so polluted by my dating life that it never had a chance.
I didn’t set out to be married and never had interest in having my own kids. But I have felt the last 3 years to be rather arid. I currently live in Asheville, NC, and besides one hook-up years ago, I haven’t even met anyone for a coffee, much less a frisson. Why is that? Utter lack of interest is why.
I attended at Transcendental Meditation workshop the other night and a gorgeous young yoga nymph appeared, only to deflate everything when she began speaking: “Like, does, like . . . like and then I wondered, like . . .” Language is everything, people. The repetitive misuse of it is true treachery.
The other reason I don’t date is that everyone is crazy now and they should be avoided. Most of them are medicated.
Sidebar. Um, why is there so much porn nowadays? Probably because no one is dating anymore. Or maybe no one is dating anymore because there is so much porn.
The consensus about single people is that they are losers. Maybe I am a loser, but I’ve grown to be one with boredom. As a young writer living in Seattle, LA, Houston and New York, I loved going to the art house films and browsing second-hand bookstores, then actually reading the books on my shelves. I have time, perhaps too much of it.
I do know that artists can’t create if they are wasting time with lethal relationships. Dating gives me the creeps, especially when people chew with their mouths open and answer loud cell phone calls from ex-boyfriends during our time together.
Maybe I’ll date again one day. Maybe not. I haven’t really thought about it until I was asked to write this article. When I first started writing as a career, I realized early that relationships and writing did not go together.
Art is selfish. It is about time, stealing time from others in order to create. I wanted to travel, by myself, and I did. All 50 states. Buenos Aires, New Zealand, Malaysia, Australia, Mexico, Canada, most of Europe, Israel, Hong Kong. The times I did travel with people were misery, ruining entire countries I could have enjoyed if I had just gone alone. Sorry Italy: we’ll try again some day.
All I remember from my long-term relationships was that these people kept telling me I needed to make more money. All I remember from my short-term relationships is that I don’t remember any last names.
I’ll keep writing for the rest of my life whereas relationships, all of them, fail in some manner. Who wants to put up with failure all the time? Not I.
Talk to me when I turn 50 though. Things might change.

by
Mark Damon Puckett
markdamonpuckett.com