Our mutual friend, Joanna, was standing with the group, and added a point to the loving ribbing. Then she said something remarkable: "Jonah, on the other hand, is a true gentleman." Then she turned to me and asked, "How is it that some woman hasn't snatched you up?"
I responded that I wasn't sure, but that I had been married for a time. "And I'm available and interested." This is sort of my standard line.
I'll note that Joanna is happily married. In fact, most of the women who've mentioned that I would make great husband material are already married. Obviously, it would be too forward for a single woman (who lives within a reasonable distance) to make this sort of comment.
Joanna's question has haunted me. I try not to think of my marital status too much. Obsessively worrying about it leads to an aura of desperation which tends to scare many of the women in my age group away, for one thing. For another, I really do believe the right woman will enter my life at the right time.
As I have mentioned before, I tend to be introverted. The past couple of years, I have striven to be more social. But I get anxious if I'm away from my house for more than a 2-3 nights a week. So, I perceive I need to strike a balance between being social, of being in situations where I might meet available women of a certain age, and of honoring my need for alone time.
Most of my social interactions have been through my church. This has seemed a safe atmosphere to begin with. At the very least, we share a common community. With more luck, we share a desire for a spiritually rich life.
There is a slight risk in dating women you meet at church. Actually, two risks having to do with the rumor mill. I've been made aware that, if two opposite-sex singles sit close together in church, there is a group of people (primarily female) who imagine they are a couple. If the singles do start dating, the mill gets into high gear, and these would-be matchmakers start opining on whether the two are good for each other.
The other risk is the awkwardness which may follow if you break up. I've been through a miniature version of this, and it's very uncomfortable. It can distract one from a focus on divine, at least for a month or so (depending on the seriousness of the relationship).
I am expanding my social circles, through my involvement with a local Folk Music club, and will soon have increased involvement with Oklahoma poets.
All of this is a long-winded way of saying that one probable reason I don't have a steady girlfriend (to use an archaic term) is because I don't socialize in places where potential candidates are likely to congregate.
It must be noted, of course, that I haven't seriously asked someone out in over a year. That may have something to do with it, as well.
I've assumed these factors were pretty much it.
Then, I had the strangest dream this morning. It occurred in a state on the semi-conscious side of REM. The dream was basically a re-run of the conversation with Joanna, only this time my dream-self thought, "What am I saying? I'm still married to M–"
Could it be that I haven't totally closed the book on that relationship? Inspecting the notion in the light of day, it just doesn't make sense. M– left in the fall of 1995; we officially divorced in 2000. So, we've been separated for over ten years.
I've done a lot of work on that relationship. I've striven to confront areas where I may have contributed to its end. I've striven to forgive M– for how she contributed to its end. I even believed I had forgiven myself.
Have I missed a step? Is the dream telling me I'm still connected to M– in some way? Is it possible that this connection is preventing me from forming new potentially romantic relationships?
It's also possible, given the fact the dream occurred on the REM/full awareness borderlands that it doesn't mean anything. Could be a little time distortion wafting through my dream field.
I offer these concerns for your prayer list.
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