Fair warning: this is probably going to be a depressing post, and perhaps you'll sense a bit of self-pity creeping, so move on if you'd like. I'm writing this for me.

Tonight I'm depressed, very depressed, about the state of affairs in my life. Sometimes life is full of nothing but possibility and hope. That hope and possibility often come crashing down, but this can be dealt with, just so long as you know you at least reached for those possibilities. It's tragic when these come crashing down because you're not courageous enough to even try to reach for the possibility that you see before you. When things don't pan out, and if you've at least tried, you know you took a giant step of faith and exercised risk. When you don't even try, you feel nothing but disappointment with yourself, and a sense of failure.

Life is out there to be grabbed, and tackled, and fought for--we're supposed to be in the game, and not sitting on the sidelines. We've got to engage in life, not just sit back and let it pass us by. Well, I let it pass me by tonight, and I'm very disappointed in myself, and depressed.

Of course, I suspect it will all seem silly and trite and adolescent when I describe what I'm talking about, but so be it. I was bound and determined tonight to ask the lead singer of Cherish the Ladies out for a drink. Call me crazy, but I was GOING TO DO IT. And I didn't. I pansied out, and left like a freaking mongrel pup with my tail between my legs and I hate it anytime I do that.

I so try to be courageous when it comes to meeting women whom I'm absolutely smitten by, and more often than not, I stay seated on the bench. I've had a few moments of success, where I fought the battle inside me of looking like a fool, and just went for it. I actually got a date like that--once. (There's me feeling sorry for me, I suppose). The past two times have been in the negative. And I suppose it didn't help my confidence tonight that I walked right by one of the women who said no to me, who of course was with a guy who she said yes to. Why the hell did I have to see HER, right on the way to asking out a total stranger? Talk about defeating thinking instantly hitting you. And of course my rational mind kicked in, recognizing that I needed to block that out of my mind. But it didn't work all that well, I suppose. Naturally, the guy she was with was some studly guy that I'll never be either, and we men tend to do the thing that males of all species do and check out the mating "competition." He won. I lost--at least with that woman. Not the best thing to experience when you're about to go be Mr. Courageous-in-Asking-Out-A-Stranger Man.

And I wasn't that man tonight. And here's the sad thing: I think I would have had a good chance at success. I had a couple of moments of interaction with this woman, where I was comfortable and and confident, and she was responsive. I know at the very least, I wouldn't have been received as some creepy guy. Heck, it's always a 50/50 chance, right? What do you have to lose?

Well, as I slinked away, once again with my tail between my legs, I felt like I was back in the fifth grade not courageous enough to ask a girl to go roller skating over at Edru's Skating Rink. You would think that stupid feeling would have been jettisoned after 25 years, wouldn't you? But nope...it's unfortunately been my M.O. pretty much my whole life. I'm the guy who sits idly by, watching opportunities go by, and for what?

I sit there and wonder about that part of my life. I know you need to exercise those muscles to just be fearless and confident in that sort of situation. But let's be honest here: how likely is it that at age 36 I'm going to be transformed into some man filled with all the confidence in the world? I try, and will continue to try, but those patterns of thinking are deeply ingrained in us. For goodness sake, I've wanted to be different every since I experienced that feeling back in the fifth grade! And I've tried my whole life. I'll keep trying--there's no way I'm going to give up. Especially after a night like this where I'm so mad at myself for not stepping up to the plate and taking a swing.

I sit there after a moment like this, and because I tend to think far too much, I'll always ask myself the question: what does God want me to become, or learn? There was a period of time where I was convinced that the reason I was single for so long, was because God wanted to shape me into an Iron John kind of man: the pursuer, the lion after the lioness, and all the rest of what it means to be man created in God's image. I thought that once I became the image of the confident man I had in my mind, that's when God would see fit to bring me a spouse.

I was that way with Meg. I remember when we met. It was at a symphony bowling party, and it was sort of a set-up through a mutual friend. We talked just briefly, and we got along alright. But I think what sold Meg on me was the fact that I stopped by at Barnes and Noble where she worked. That took guts, and at first, she was a little weirded out by it, but apparently, after I had left, she realized that she had really enjoyed talking with me. We then dated for a year and a half.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I do that so rarely though, and I was bound and determined to do that tonight. I WAS going to do it...and at the last minute, I struck out.

Talk about self flagellation.

She was a remarkable woman--at least what I saw. And I told myself, "why NOT me?" I was pumping myself up to be bold and courageous, to venture forth and be foolish. But I didn't follow through.

I got home tonight, and sat in my car, in the dark, depressed as all get out. Did I think there was really a chance of anything happening with this woman? No--she lives in Scotland! But I thought there was a chance of having a wonderful evening chatting with a beautiful and amazingly talented woman. I want to go for those opportunities, and I want to be willing to risk appearing the fool! Those muscle definitely need exercising.

I know I've said it before, but I grow tired of this empty house. It's my home, but it's a lonely home. It's not good for man to live alone, and I've lived alone a long, long time. I want this to really feel like a home--I want someone desperately to share my life with. I want someone to help me decide what I'm going to do with my bathroom, and the rest of my life. I sat outside my door tonight, and didn't even want to go inside. I know sometimes married people will feel that way too, and I'm sure many have sat outside the door, with the key poised to enter the lock, dreading having to face an unhealthy relationship. But I'm willing to take that risk!

When I was younger, in my early 20's, I used to write notes to my future wife, when I felt like I do tonight. I would think to myself that somewhere, walking on this earth, there existed that woman whom God had in store for me. She was living her life, just as ignorant of my existence as I was of hers. I would find some solace in imagining what her life might be like, and pining for the day when we might meet. Writing those letters was medicine for the ache in the gut and longing I felt then. I still have those letters, and I pull them out from time to time. But I stopped writing them years ago.

I'm still wondering, still hopeful, still pining for that one.

But then again, I sometimes wonder if there is that one.