I was approaching my sixty-fifth birthday and I wasn't doing very well; mentally and emotionally that is. I keep reading how it's hard for people to go without sex for three to five years, and here I was going on fifteen years since I'd had a sex partner. I was beginning to feel as if I was going to die alone. And that was not a good feeling.
Now I was receiving regular therapy for my issues, and it seemed to help, but was nothing like a cure. I had been told that there were "crisis hotlines" if I felt that I needed someone to talk to in between our sessions, and I was on that edge right now.
But I was hesitant. I mean, it's not as if merely 'being lonely' is a health crisis, however mental it feels. And I didn't want to get some twenty-something on the line that had had very little life experience. Someone for all I knew who was getting regularly 'knockered' and would not have much sympathy for an old coot just cause he's no longer getting his rocks off.
So I hesitated and hesitated. For some reason, I just felt as if I should just buck it up and go to some bar and find a quick and easy lay and just be done with it. Although it's not exactly that easy these days, if you're not in your twenties of thirties.
In your sixties? Welllll...
I dialed the number. I mean, what the hell. I'd get what (or who) I got. Perhaps all I needed was a sympathetic ear, and that would help greatly.
"Hello, emergency services? How may I assist you?" She sounded like an older and more mature voice than I was expecting, but I paused. I didn't know exactly how to start off.
"Hello?" the female Voice on the other side asked me. "Are you there?"
"Um. Yes. I'm..."
"Good evening. How are you doing, sir? My name is Linda. How may I help you?"
I wasn't expecting whoever answered the phone to be that formal, so I was a little taken aback. "Well, I'm feeling... lonely. I just feel like I need--"
I heard that voice on the other side a breath at this, so I figured that they were listening. "Go on," she added softly. "I'm here to listen."
I breathed a little heavy for a half a minute, and I was feeling like I was about to cry. I let out a long breath and tried to get out more words.
"It's ok. I'm here to listen when you're ready," she said encouragingly.
"Well..." I began to tell her about my age and my loneliness. She listened and gave the appropriate "Uh, huh's" and the "I understand" responses. All the non-committal ones I expected.
And then I stopped talking. I was feeling more and more ridiculous as I went on, and was almost to the point of saying goodbye, when she said, "I understand your problem. I'm feeling like you are myself."
Of course, they're not supposed to do that; interject with their own personal information, but... "You are?"
"Yes. And you're not alone. I'm only in my forties and I feel that way."
"You do? Don't you have any friends either?"
"Not really. That's why I'm on this phone bank. Something to do to feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. So please believe me, I can more than sympathize."
"So what would you suggest?" I asked her hoping to get some more personal information out of her. Her Voice sounded nice.
"Well," she began, and then hesitated. I could hear her voice catch a little before she continued. "There are various 12 Step programs that you can attend. As well as social groups, like one I know of called "I'd like to do that, but Not Alone." It's a social meeting up group that you might like."
I wanted to ask her if that was a group that she belonged to... but I didn't. I didn't want to get her in trouble. Instead, I merely said, "That's nice. Perhaps I'll try that one. Is that open to someone in their sixties?"
"It's open to anyone from forties to sixties. Yes."
"Do you know when the next one's going to happen?" I asked her hopefully.
"This next Saturday. You can go and sign up online," and she gave me the web address.
"All right," I told her. I almost asked her if she was going, but I figured that these lines were recorded, so I didn't. I told her, "I'll check that out," and then I thanked her and said goodbye.
--------------------
It's amazing what resources there are out there that one just doesn't think of or know about. I went on their website and it looked like it might indeed be a way to meet people. Or at least, go for an outing and find out.
Of course, I was hoping to meet this "Linda" that I'd talked to. She seemed like a nice person, and we kind of hit it off on that call. I kept hoping to hear that Voice again, and perhaps get to know this "Linda" in the flesh.
We were out in one of the local parks that had several tails close by, one of which today's hike was to be on.
"Hi, I'm Roger," I introduced myself to several of the ladies that were on the next Saturday excursion. There were a fair amount of older women on this event, but most of them did not attract me in the least.
Finally, I walked up to a pleasant looking woman with a nice build and introduced myself. "I'm Linda," she told me with a smile that said that she recognized the sound of my voice. "I'm pleased to meet you."
She seemed pleasant enough 'in the flesh.' She was on the plump side for what I deemed to be forty-five or so, but had a nice shape to her. Her hair was a shoulder length gray that was cut to her shoulders in a sort of page-boy like bowl cut.
I'm 5' 9" and she appeared to be on the shorter side at 5' 2." I was dressed in a pair of chinos and a polo shirt, and she had on a tartan dress with a flow blouse that kind of hung over her shoulders with a slight parting in the middle to show some cleavage.
We started talking as we walked in a way that seemed to continue on from our conversation on the hotline phone call.
As the rest of the group proceeded on past us, we began to slow down and walk quietly by ourselves.
"Thank you for telling me about this group, by the way. I know it's not probably--"
She touched my arm and put her pointer finger to her lips. "Let's just pretend that we just met, shall we?" She inserted her arm into the crook of mine, and gave me a nice sweet smile.
"So," she said. "You don't really look like you're sixty-five."
"Oh, well I feel it enough on a regular basis. I'm not doing too bad today, though."
She gave me another sweet pixieish-looking smile, and told me, "You're not looking that old to me."
"Aren't there other men your age you might want to go out with?" I asked coyly. "Men you might--"