Make Me a Match

I'm old.  Soon, I will make jam, get 13 cats and shop for a nice rocking chair to sit in to watch Murder She Wrote reruns (that Jessica Fletcher is such a nice girl).  It's what us old ladies do.  And it's my duty to become everyone's Yenta, nebbing in their business, always bringing a covered dish and doing plenty of matchmaking.  For me, love is over.  I had my shot.  I've had some dead-on-balls hits and some that didn't score as many points... and I've also had my fair share of target-adjacent near misses that fell flat on the floor.  I'm ok with this.  I am alone but not lonely.  I am never bored.  I pursue the things that interest me and leave myself open to new things, even though I am set in my ways.  I have little need for people in my life beyond my friends and my DVR is already loaded with the progrums I like to watch...  this old bird ain't sharing the remote.  Being by myself makes sense to me at this point of my life.  I am happy.

But for the young, love is always in the air.  There are websites and apps and meet-up groups and a host of other places to meet people.  For straight people, it's simple... every 5 feet is a potential 'where we first met' site.  If you are straight and you haven't found your mate on the way into Target from your car in the parking lot, there's something wrong with you (although Target is a hot-bed of potential with the gays swarming there).  For a gay, it's not so simple as the numbers are against us. And it's much harder to find a decent one.  When you meet them, you don't see their faults until you are in too deep.  You don't see how shady your new flame is because you don't want to... because you want it to work so badly after trying for the last 201+ times.  You ignore all the red flags.  You jump in head first.  With all your raging hormones going full speed ahead, before you know it, all their crazy seeps out... and your new flame... goes up in flames.  Love is blind, after all.  And there is that thing that you do... going after the bad boys.  You know it won't end well, but it doesn't stop you and you're still surprised when you get burned.

We all come across people in our lives that, 'on paper', you should fall madly in love.  They are the good guys, but the problem is you don't have that spark.  And you can't force it.  It just has to happen.  It's funny, too, with our friends... that more match-making doesn't go on.  I don't know if it's because people are afraid to get involved and have it blow up in their faces or come back on them... or they don't want to see you happy... or why... but rarely does someone come to you saying "boy, do I have a great guy for you".  They think you are a wonderful person and feel the same about their friend, but it just doesn't click to bring the two people together. 

Recently, I brought two very dear friends of mine together and I am happy to say that it seems to be going well.  A push here and a nudge there, and they seem to be off to a good start.  Two of the best guys I know... they deserve happiness. 

I don't need a lot at this point... an Andy Griffith marathon on AMC... a nice piece of butter-rum hard-tack candy... some underwears that don't ride up... regularity, maybe...  but the thing that I want most in life is for my friends to be happy.  It brings me great joy... and I hope that, with this match, their spark turns into a flame... and doesn't go up in one.  Now (from the Yenta initiation gift catalog), whether to pick the toaster, the tin of popcorn... or the set of lace doilies?  Better go with the toaster... the cats will shred the doilies and the popcorn will get stuck in my dentures.