Night is still half gone...

I can only imagine what those poor souls who stumble upon this site must think about it here...
posts that vacillate wildly from cheesy pictures to whiny posts (like this one).

I'm surprised no one gets whiplash.
 Come to think of it, I suppose that's what the innards of my mind look like too. 
Scary thought.

Anywho.
Ok, so I'm sad. Well, maybe more lonely than sad. Yeah, I know, I'd be tired of my bitching about it by now too.
Sorry.

Actually, when I look at it objectively, it's strange, my loneliness, seeing as I'm pretty damned good at being alone, if I say so myself....certainly better than most people I know. I mean, I am an only child after all, and except for a few shining years or so, I've been single my entire life.  Being alone is second nature to me. It's been my life. I dine alone, go to movies alone, clean alone, live alone, sleep alone.  And despite this post, I do a pretty good job of hiding my loneliness when it rears its ugly head.

But recently it seems like my little world has imploded.

The death of my best friend, my only single gay male friend in the city left, sometimes hits me hard in the most unexpected ways.  Like now. Like the holidays.  And now that I am all-too single again, I'm feeling it all the more acutely.

When I mentally go down the list of friends and former friends, it reads something like this:
"busy with partner", "busy with work", "found jesus", "busy with spouse", "moved", "moved and busy with partner", "busy with not-me". "dead".
Not to mention, the whole tenuous network of acquaintances I had with my ex (21 mutual, by facebook's estimation) has now dissolved like a phantom.  Like it never really existed at all.
Poof.
In re-reading this I realize this sounds overly harsh of me, overly critical of the friends I have. I am truly grateful for them, I really am. I love them all dearly, but, well, that doesn't seem to keep me from feeling lonely.

But never let it be said that I don't try.
A few weeks ago, in a pique of desperation, after yet another failed attempt to schedule dinner with a friend ("Sorry, hun, I can't make it. How about in a few months?"), I found myself on Craigslist.
Yikes.
It'd be easier to find a hitman there than a friend.  But I tried anyway.

I posted a very platonic ad seeking a gal pal.  I mean, again, not to brag, I think I'd make some gal a pretty good gay pal.
Crickets.
A week or so later a girl answered, she seemed cool. We chatted a while....mostly one sided: me asking her questions, her responding. We made plans to meet.  She suggested we meet at a club in the quarter...late on a Wednesday night.  I apologized and said I couldn't stay out that late on a school night, and asked if she'd like to have dinner on the weekend.  She had to work that weekend, but agreed to dinner sometime in the future, and then she disappeared, clearly bored by my stick-in-the mudness.  Turns out I was not the Will to her Grace she had in her mind. I'm dull.

Sometimes, I wonder if the window of opportunity has passed me by for making new friends, you know,
 like it has for having sex... or wearing skinny jeans.

So here I am in the middle of a sleepless night, listening to church bells, bitching into the ether about my pathetic life...again.....bringing me back, ironically, full circle to the origins of this sad little blog.