I have been thinking about a series of posts by Seeker that have explored the nature and pitfalls of later-life dating and relationships. Each of you will have to decide what "later life" means. For me, it means after 50 -- and certainly does not include 30s and early 40s when women usually still have a measure of physical attractiveness.

I do not feel ready for dating or anything like that, after a bad break-up of a 15-year couple-ship in 2003. Seeker's post have made me think, however:

Despite Fayerody's example to the contrary, I believe that:

1. There's not much out there, in the way, of potential mates, in men my age and older.

2. We all have baggage, and their children, ex-wives, unwillingness to commit, expectations of dating younger (sometimes much younger) women, and their deteriorating bodies are not particularly attractive.

So I've been experimenting with the notion of pretending that my own fears, and my belief about the marketplace of available marketplace of males, ARE NOT TRUE.

What would it feel like to admit that I want to love passionately, intimately, and have a relationship that makes my heart pound and my panties wet?

If I were to admit any such thing, I would next have to cope with the statistical reality that I have a better of chance of being killed by a terrorist than of ever having such a relationship (according to an article in one of the news magazines some years ago).

So what's the point?, I ask myself. What would the point be of preparing myself to love again, knowing how improbable it would be?

Comments anyone?