Adaptability

The general response in private e-mails to yesterday's post was that people can't change their basic nature. People are telling me I don't have the capacity to be less than open, honest, straight-forward, soul-baring.

If that's so, and I guess I have to agree that it is, then what factors of one's life can be changed?

I've spent the last eight years, since John's death, wishing and searching for a permanent relationship that was as wonderful (if not more so) than what I had in the small number of years John and I spent together. Now I'm starting to wonder if that's realistic.

At 56, am I set in my ways? Am I so used to my daily personal activities (waking at 4:30 or 5:00 to gulp tea and an Excedrin and slap an ice-pack on my neck, lie on the couch clearing my TiVo list or reading e-mails, lying in bed at 10:00 with the news and a crossword puzzle or SuDoku) that I'm better off in casual relationships? Am I capable of adapting to someone else's daily personal activities and negotiating a common ground? For that matter, if I try the multiple casual relationships, am I capable of remembering all the personal facts, the kids' names, the birth dates, the choice of pets, the favorite city in which to vacation? Is my brain to old, my estrogen too far gone, to be able to remember all that stuff? (Thank God for spreadsheets in which to record personal information.) ;-) Hey, this mental exercise could be just as good as the crosswords and SuDokus! Maybe I could write a doctoral dissertation on the brain cells involved in dating over 50!

So maybe I'm rethinking things I want and things I don't want. I am being very good about certain things I want — I heard from Mr. Match last night, after five days of no communication, and I didn't collapse, didn't melt. He says he's dealing with some things in his life. I didn't ask what. He said we'd talk next week. I said fine. I will not rethink my requirement to be treated with respect.

And my final note about yesterday's post: my kids did not step forward and volunteer to begin pre-screening all my dates. (Smart kids, they.)