Wednesday, April 10th, 2013
30

Ask Polly: I Am 40. Will I Be Alone Forever?

Appearing here Wednesdays, Turning The Screw provides existential crisis counseling for the faint of heart. "Because the heart is a lonely hoarder."

Polly,

There seems to be an abundance of advice-seekers who are 25 and terrified of being alone or 31 and think they're elderly. What I don't see is anyone over 40 who doesn't have their shit together. Is it that they are too busy being surrounded by loved ones to read blogs? Or are they too downtrodden to bother?

There is a perception that young people are bundles of misguided anxiety and that time will sort everything out. And yet everything in my experience contradicts that. (It probably doesn't help that I just finished reading The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne. Why did no one stop me?!)

After a 13-year relationship, I find myself single—and 40. It's not a divorce because I was never married. And marriage is not really the issue. Ninety percent of my friends are unmarried with no kids, and I've attended exactly two wedding in 20 years, both of them my sister's (neither involved bridesmaids or a white dress). The issue is that I'm going on month four of what's meant to be a year-long separation (no illusions there) and instead of having fun with my new freedom like I had envisioned (the separation was not my idea, but I wasn't 100% opposed to it as a rut-breaking tactic), I'm miserable and panicky.

The problem is that what worked at 27 doesn't at 40. Yet a good number of the women I know are still living as they always have. I don't have good relationship role models. We like to stay out late, go drinking, be marginally irresponsible (which is all fine since we are wage-earning grown-ups) behavior that is all in line with the hipster punch line of a Brooklyn neighborhood that we live in. But a middle-aged version of "Girls" is not only horrifying, it's not sustainable. I'm hyper-aware of the growing disconnect between my insides and my outsides and I feel queasy about turning into the oblivious old lady at the bar.

This seems to bother only me, though.

(The ex, who was age appropriate, also thought I was irrationally hung up on being older than everyone around me, but I don't think men feel this as acutely. Case in point: I often see aging silver-haired dudes at shows, but never their female equivalents.) Nearly every female I know dates younger and for the time being it's feasible since we could get away with shaving five years off our ages and no one would question it. But I don't want to lie, plus I have a hard time with men who used Facebook as teenagers or were in grade school on 9/11. And the point is moot, because I've hit the invisible to the opposite sex point. At first I thought I was simply annoyed by youngsters dancing to Bell Biv Devoe because mindless nostalgia rubs me the wrong way (I learned to never trust a big butt and smile long ago). But then I wondered if I was more upset that youngsters who dance to Bell Biv Devoe have no interest in me.

I feel like all the grown-ups got married, never go outdoors after 9 p.m. and socialize by throwing dinner parties in their brownstones with reclaimed wood tables, small batch bourbon in Mason jars and kids playing in front of the chalkboard-painted fridge. Must I await the Dadurday of reckoning to score a viable divorcee?

The obvious solution is to try and meet people outside of bars—volunteering, church groups, poetry readings, whatever—or at the very least expand neighborhood boundaries. But even though I'm chatty (and long-winded, obviously), I'm extremely introverted and never start conversations with strangers first. Alcohol helps, hence the bars.

I'm starting to believe that at some point "there's someone for everyone" is as untrue a platitude as "do what you love and the money will follow" or as annoying as people who claim to have lost 30 pounds once they stopped stressing over what they ate. I know I'm still new at this but I'm already feeling that I could just as well become a hermit in my new paycheck-eating apartment, ordering Thai food off Seamless and mourning the loss of Enlightened until I eventually keel over.

Are some people just meant to be alone? All my friends are, and now I am too.

Older, Not Wiser




Dear Older Not Wiser,

Back in the mid 90s in San Francisco, you'd see advertisements all over the place for Linda McCartney's Meatless Frozen Entrees. The ads seemed to loosely refer to a food product of some kind, but all you knew for sure was that the "food" in question 1) lacked meat, 2) was frozen, and 3) was for some reason associated with the wife of the man who wrote "Hey Jude." Say whatever you want about that lunatic Judith Hearne, but the woman did have passion. And if she put out a food product, you can be goddamn sure she'd tell you all about what was in it.

While I very much enjoyed your letter, it's the 700-word equivalent of something meatless and frozen. Instead of telling me what you have and what you want, you describe what you don't have and don't want, while outlining what everyone else has and wants. The fact that you're on a year-long hiatus from a 13-year relationship fits right in with the wishy-washy Nowhere Man feeling of your letter. You portray yourself as passively standing still against a background of action: Your partner suggests a break and you agree to it, vaguely hoping to break out of a rut. Your friends go out drinking and dating younger guys and you agree to it, vaguely hoping that it will stop feeling quite so wrong to you. You imagine married people sipping bourbon out of Mason jars at their dinner parties, but insist that marriage is not the issue. As bad as Judith Hearne might make you feel, she at least took action, installing herself in that inherited house in the country, then leering at the handsome young lad tending to the grounds. (Correction: I've confused Judith Hearne, the old-maid antiheroine of The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne with Rachel Waring, the old-maid antiheroine of Wish Her Safe At Home. I strongly recommend both books, though!)

Hearne only veers off the path to happiness when she starts to protect herself from other people's opinions and ideas by retreating into her own imagination. Eventually, she vastly prefers fantasy to reality. Every time she's faced with a choice that might bring her back into the real world with real people, she condescends and retreats to the safety of her delusions, Don Draper-style—except without the expensive suits and the sparkling cocktails.

This year-long trial separation is a terrible thing for you. It means that you're forced to experience all of the downsides of being alone—paying your own rent, worrying about what your ex is doing, haunting a half-single life while wondering if it's your permanent fate or not—without any of the advantages. Trying on singledom for size is like "experimenting" with cohabitation. So much of the experience is defined by testing, by being on the fence, by wondering how things will go without making any concrete commitment, that it's tough to get an accurate sense of what really being single or really making a commitment might look like. I'm not saying people should court briefly then marry. I'm just saying that it's often much healthier to take clear action: commit to a partnership (which can be done without marrying) or don't move in together yet. Break up or don't. "Trial periods" tends to mean that one person has their cake and eats the other person's cake, too.

Will you be happier alone? I don't think you're gathering new information on that front right now. Instead, you're living in this limbo state that's sucking all of the passion out of your life. As a result, you aren't passionate about anything—not your ex, not yourself, not your friends, not the idea of other possibilities, nothing. In order to change that, you have to form a vision of your life that makes sense to you. Going out to bars all the time and/or dating someone much younger doesn't make sense to you, so factor that out of the equation right now (instead of dragging your ass out night after night in order to avoid facing yourself).

Now tell me what does sound right. How do you want to be living a decade from now? What aspects of that picture are mandatory (must own your own place, must be creatively productive, must own a pet, etc.)? What aspects are optional? Do you want to get married? Do you want to have kids or adopt? Do you want to travel? Do you want to be involved in activities that don't include drinking?

You need to decide what you want and set out in pursuit of it. If it's really important for you to find someone and fall in love, that's all the more reason to call an end to this so-called hiatus right now. You gave it 13 years. If your ex wants to make a passionate show of staying together (or you do), fine. Short of that, you need to call it quits and move on. The right plane can't land if the wrong plane is blocking the runway.

Once you've broken up officially, then it's time to commit to some activities that don't feel lame to you. No one is going to make you start conversations. You just show up and take part, that's all. We garrulous drinker types always imagine that every interaction depends on our performing for a live audience. No. Regular people just do shit (volunteer, join jogging clubs, throw poker nights) and slowly become more familiar to each other until conversations naturally happen.

You're never too old to have the life you want. Truly. But you do need to know what you want first, and—maybe even more importantly?—you need to be able to say it out loud, without shame. I don't know that you're surrounding yourself with the kinds of people who find these sorts of direct statements socially acceptable. Is there a dearth of passionate talk among your peers? Do they mostly discuss what they don't like, what they'd never stand for, who they would never want to be?

Fuck the meatless frozen entrees of the world. It's time to be something, to own it, to announce it to the world without apology. Fuck the hipster hedging, the cleverness, the hiding. Stand up and tell the world what you're made of, tell them what you fucking want—dearly, desperately, from the depths of your soul—and don't accept anything less.

Polly




Dear Polly,

I will caveat the following by saying I'm not sure my question is exactly in the 'existential/life' category, but as a longtime reader (first-time writer!) I appreciate your generally incisive observations and hope you help me achieve some self-discovery through a different issue than those with which you usually deal.

So I've been dating this girl for 1.5 months. She is fun and cool and is super-cute and in great shape and is equally content dressing up for a night on the town as she is cooking at my apartment late into the night, laughing at my terrible jokes, and generally being excellent company. Extremely compatible in issues philosophical, religious, blah blah blah. There's just this one thing. She has upper lip hair.

I classify it as ULH because it's certainly not a full blown mustache—like maybe 10-15 hairs, short, barely visible by unaided sight, and then only if you seek for them desperately with a suspicious and jaundiced eye. I only really notice/am bothered by them when we're making out—maybe I have sensitive lips or something, but I can't escape the tingly tickle of these uninvited face-guests. It's gotten to where it's tough to focus on the pleasure quotient of kissing her because all my mind can do is scheme to avoid the bristly patch. As far as I can tell, she is either completely unaware of her ULH or is in denial.

I think it's too early in the relationship and, given her pluses, is far too minor an issue to bring up now. But how and when should I? It seems like it'd be SO EASY to fix, and it's such a minor roadblock it seems silly to not bring it up, BUT, if I were a girl, I feel (is this unjustified?) like I would be utterly mortified to be confronted about this, especially by a man I like and who I want to like me.

Am I a terrible boyfriend for even considering telling her about this? Am I being way too sensitive about her feelings? I wax my back and upper arms regularly (and did so before I met her) out of basic consideration for the fairer sex, and I am your average/not that sensitive/relatively brutish male. I've found women to be A LOT more touchy about stuff like this, so I'm kind of embarrassed for her to even have noticed it. Conversely, I, personally, would be deeply thankful and ecstatic for a girlfriend to say 'Hey, you need to manscape down there a bit' or 'lose the scraggly top-of-foot hair, it grosses me out', because its a super-easy way to make her happy. I feel like the rules are different, though, going the other way between sexes. Am I just nitpicking here? I need a wise woman's help!

Thanks in advance -

A Hair Too Far



Dear AHTF,

Sweet Jesus. Of course I think you're nitpicking. You youngsters won't be happy until you're as hairless as prepubescent aliens. Your shiny Caucasian bodies don't scream "sexy" to oldsters like me; they scream Lair of the White Worm.

Still, I did just instruct LW1 to stand up and tell the world what she wants, without apology. And obviously this lip hair thing is messing with your passion in a big way. Even so, I don't love how you wrote that you're "kind of embarrassed for her." She has no reason to be embarrassed, except for her embarrassment at dating a hairless white worm like yourself.

Anyway, if you really feel like you're in this for the long-ish haul and you want to cultivate a nice, honest dialogue about what works and what doesn't work for you, I would find some really humble way to tell her about YOUR problem. For example:

"This is really embarrassing for me to say, but lately when we kiss there's something tickly going on… and I keep shaving my lip smoother but it's still there. I feel like there might be some tiny invisible hairs on your lip that are maybe a little bristly? I mean honestly, I feel like an idiot saying this because I don't SEE anything, plus now you probably realize what a ridiculous, exacting metrosexual fuck-wiener I am, which means you're likely to dump me soon…."

Sorry for spelling it out, but I felt pretty sure you were going to fuck it up otherwise. (Yes, you can skip over that last part. That was just for you and me, baby.)

Anyway, if I'm being honest, my husband's really bad haircuts and terrible, terrible pants downright haunted me when I first met him. It was like covering a really excellent steak with ketchup. I hinted here and there, but eventually, I had to speak plainly. Talking about it made me incredibly ashamed, though, because I knew these things were bothering me more than any healthy, normal person would ever be bothered by them.

Come to think of it, it wasn't really about the haircut or the pants (although they were both truly terrible). It was about voicing something minor and stupid that mattered to me nonetheless. It was about admitting that he wasn't perfect, and that sometimes, the things he said or did (or wore!) were going to bug me, and, me being me, I wouldn't be able to keep my strong feelings to myself. So, when he reacted confidently, laughing off my pickiness without taking it personally, it was a good sign that the deeply irritating core of my bossy personality wasn't going to cause him to break up with me. A miracle, truly!

Brand new relationships include all kinds of seemingly shallow and foolish trials, I guess. Who should I be to judge? (In contrast to the shallow and foolish trials of 13-year-old relationships, which are easily eliminated by breaking the fuck up already.) You sound like a nice enough guy. That said, though, if you successfully encourage your lady to wax her upper lip (or even just bleach it, which will make the hairs invisible and far less bristly), and then you find something else that's unacceptable about her personal hygiene? Well, then you should probably give up on real woman and turn to the smooth, quiet, disinfected solace of blow-up sex dolls instead.

Polly



Are you longing for smooth, quiet, disinfected solace? Write to loud, filthy Polly for pointers on where to find it!

Heather Havrilesky (aka Polly Esther) is The Awl's existential advice columnist. She's also a regular contributor to The New York Times Magazine, and is the author of the memoir Disaster Preparedness (Riverhead 2011). She blogs here about scratchy pants, personality disorders, and aged cheeses.

Disturbing top photo by Shane Hirschman. Caterpillar photo by Donald Hines.

30 Comments / Post A Comment

IBentMyWookie (#133)

Oof, you're in a tough spot, LW2.
For what it's worth, if someone with whom I'm romantically involved were to tell me that I have distracting facial hair, I would probably, realistically, sob myself to the point of dehydration. I mean, you can't help that this bothers you, but tread very carefully. Very.

@IBentMyWookie I dunno, is it really that big of a deal to say something? I mean, my husband told me that when the light shines on me just right, he can see a halo of fuzz on basically my entire face. But it doesn't really bother me because 1. I know he's still attracted to me and 2. what am I going to do about it anyway, shave my entire face? Also, people who love you usually have the best intentions (and I hear it's better to think they do even when they don't). Also, who cares what anyone else thinks, really? It's all bs, and then you die.

@IBentMyWookie Agreed. LW2, your girlfriend can go to the salon and get waxed. But there's no spa treatment for superficiality. Or if there is, my waxer hasn't offered it to me yet!

julebsorry (#5,783)

@Amanda Webber@twitter Pretty sure all normal, human women have some very light "fuzz" on their cheeks/lips. Those who don't are either a) very young or b) lying. I think this guy probably just needs to get up close to more real women, because I'm betting this "moustache" is the same tiny light mammal-hairs most women have.

Titania (#8,471)

@IBentMyWookie Yup. I know I have them. I would straight up pass out and die if my boyfriend mentioned them. I don't feel that way about hair anywhere else (yes, I have been that person in the "fuck you, if you won't go down on me until I wax, I'm not waxing until you go down on me" argument) but my lip? Ugh. I trim it religiously since my skin is too sensitive for wax or threading.

greenteasundae (#10,241)

@IBentMyWookie My sweet eight year old sister was born with a fuzzy face, and she is f'in adorable. I'm throwing some evil eye-lightning bolts at LW2.

littlecbigc (#243,001)

Older, Not Wiser, I have been pretty much where you are right now and what Polly told you is pretty much spot on. I think you probably won't want to believe it for a while, you'll continue on living in limbo, and then one day you'll get mad at the ex and start to move on with your life. You may not pursue what you desire in life because in some way you feel you don't deserve it, but you do. So many people live lives of quiet desperation, settling for "pretty good" relationships that need "breathing room." You have an opportunity to live a much more zesty, fun, exciting, passionate kind of life (whether you end up partnered or not) if you can be brave enough to figure out what moves you, go toward that, and never look back.

ragazza (#241,456)

LW1, what you want also has to come from a place of genuine (positive) desire, not fear. When we say "I want this" it too often can mean "I am afraid of this"–in your case, afraid of being alone. I've been there! It's not always easy and it takes some work, but you can do it.
By the way, I am 43 and not married, and have had two- and three-year stints of not dating ANYONE. I did the online thing with mixed success (no horrible experiences, luckily!) but then ended up with an acquaintance I've known for 15 or 20 years. I'm not saying that's what will happen for you, but the old cliche that you have to find happiness within yourself–well, I think it is true. You can't expect one person to make your life wonderful.

Lauri (#10,588)

Are we thinking of the same Judith Hearne? I don't recall a country house or a groundskeeper. I do recall a drab, creepy boarding house in Belfast and an eventual (and apparently permanent) stay in a charity home. . . .

I don't get the sense that LW1's problem is that she is hung up on her semi-ex. Maybe I'm projecting, but it seems to be more about the obstacles 40-year-old (and older) women encounter when attempting to create that new life that everyone insists could be theirs if they just tried hard enough. As for the way men and women are (in the main) treated differently when they reach the post-40 years, it's a shitty double standard, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

HeatherH (#241,099)

@Lauri You're right! I'm confusing the lonely "old maid" antiheroine of The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne with the lonely "old maid" heroine of Wish Her Safe At Home. I read 4 crazy alienated heroine books in a row last fall and they're all blending together as one in my mediocre mind. Gotta love NY Review Books classics. (Start with After Claude by Iris Owens!)

4 months into a separation? You're in Break Up Land. Do self care and worry later. After a 13 year relationship? Woof. If it's over, cut the cord and try to start moving on. This isn't about age, really, is it? It's that you have to re-design your entire life and you don't remember what it looked like before.

@Hiroine Protagonist Really hits the nail on the head. LW1, How can you expect anything to look right to you only four months into your freedom? Try to be nice to yourself first. If you keep doing that for a while (minimum: one year!) you'll eventually figure out which things feel right FOR YOU. Who cares what other people are doing?

I'm a 40+ single lady living in a certain overdocumented neighborhood of Brooklyn, too, and I can sympathize with being annoyed with the "shallow" youngsters (in quotes because obviously I was just as obnoxious at 25) crowding up the dive bars with their Jaeger shots and their faux nostalgia. But when it really gets to me, I go home to my well-appointed grown-up apartment and do my own thing. But that's me! Your results may very. You need to figure out what it means to do YOU.

I'll also throw this out there: I have a bunch of married-with-kids friends and some longterm coupled friends too. And most of them are at least a little jealous of my swinging single lifestyle. I would be too if I had to deal with cranky toddlers or recalcitrant spouses. BUT I TOTALLY DONT HAVE TO. I just worry about me.

Single over 40 is not for the faint of heart, surely. But it can be a hell of a lot of fun. Eventually. First, though, definitely break up with that guy.

doraleigh (#239,253)

@Subway Suicide@twitter Can attest to being a married-with-kids person and being jealous of my single friends (and not just a little). And ummm, there is not much single-batch bourbon being served in Mason jars or reclaimed wood going on, either. Things do not look like a Sundance catalog on this side of the fence.

Also, that free-floating anxiety about aging is not just for singles! I am in my 40s and think constantly (OK, maybe not constantly, but a lot) about how my 20s and 30s are gone and about being invisible to men. I know, it's different — I am not trying to attract a mate, my husband loves me, but I still FEEL it.

And yeah, right on on the advice to break up with that guy. A one-year hiatus? Ugh, and then what?

blueblazes (#238,044)

LW2/Polly– Mr. BlueBlazes had some of the worst fashion sense possibly ever in the world when I met him. He was still wearing all of his 1998 clothes 10 years later, and he had kind of a 90210 haircut. In short, he looked ridiculous and didn't understand why women loved to hang out with him at home but never wanted to go out on dates.

We started dating in fall, and as winter came along, he mentioned he wanted to go shopping for a new winter coat. This became my golden opportunity to take him shopping and dress him just the way I wanted. It was like Pretty Woman in reverse. And now I buy all his clothes and he is a sexy beast. The acid wash relaxed fit jeans and pleated pants are gone forever!!!

MORAL BEING: If it is too weird to just tell this girl about her face stubble, how about you show her how into her you are by getting her a spa day gift certificate? That way you are giving her a gift that is also a (secretly) a present for yourself!

Pound of Salt (#15,166)

Upper lip hair – SHE'S AWARE AND SHE DON'T CARE

Olivia2.0 (#1,716)

" I wax my back and upper arms regularly (and did so before I met her) out of basic consideration for the fairer sex" NO. You do so because you are a vain child! I LOL'd at the Lair of the White Worm comment, and PERSONALLY I would not care to sleep with a man who regularly waxed his UPPER ARMS. WHY? THEY ARE FINE. I am so confused by this!

Anarcissie (#3,748)

@Olivia2.0 : For some reason it has become fashionable among the young (some of them, men and women) to remove most or all of their body hair. I don't get it either. Pollution anxiety? The desire to be the object of pederasty? Hatred of hippies? Who knows. It's just one of those unaccountable things the young do that annoy the old.

jfruh (#713)

Maybe this is shallow but on the very long list of reasons why I'm super glad to be married is WAXING. Due to the male gaze, I had always thought of this in terms of "Thank goodness I will never encounter a waxed lady area and have to pretend that I don't find it unnerving" but now apparently I would be required to WAX MY UPPER ARMS??? No thank you forever, ugh ugh ugh ugh

tikowy2v (#243,020)

SO GOOD

Pupshah (#2,112)

LW2 – well, tell her now and you run the risk of her coming to the same conclusion that I did, reading your letter: that what you value most about her is that she's "super-cute," "in great shape," and likes to cook for you AND dress up for you!

The fact that the non-physical/non-functional stuff you like about her gets a "blah blah blah" appended to it reinforces this impression, by the way.

So here's some advice: suck it up, keep your mouth shut, and stick around for long enough that it's clear to both of you that there's more to your interest in her than her conventional attractiveness, and THEN she'll probably be willing (if not happy) to hear about your distaste for her lip hairs.

Don't misunderstand me: physical compatibility is super important! But most folks seem to agree that for a relationship to work, there needs to be something else going on also. She could probably use a little reassurance that you like her for other reasons before she's willing to start taking requests about her personal upkeep.

Or: that's how I'd feel, anyway.

needsmoresalt (#242,163)

Until a few years ago, I had never been with a guy who waxed anything. I hooked up with this guy that I hadn't seen with his shirt off in strong light. I couldn't figure out why his back felt weirdly scaly. I thought he must have a skin condition. But it was stubble from waxing! It really grossed me out, but I felt like I shouldn't mention it, because he obviously felt super-self conscious about being hairy. Now I'm with a guy who's even hairier and doesn't give a fuck. To each his or her own! So maybe LW2 needs to find a girl who takes hair removal as seriously as he does?

Niko Bellic (#1,312)

It took me 3 years to restore myself to a functional (single) person after a 3 year relationship – back when I was 30. So, I'd say it's definitely possible to do relationship wrong in a way that not only dooms the relationship but also renders you unfit to be single after it. Judging from the whole cohabitation+separation situation (I thought to be "separated" you had to be married, so way to go with making it all as senseless as possible!) I'd say LW1 has done just that.

So having in mind how LW1 sucked at relationships (and from my experience, you can do friendships just as bad as you can do romances), she should regard being alone as the solution, not as the problem. Now is the chance to figure out how to live, and like any learning process it comes with its pains. So my advice is: embrace the pain, and enjoy the part of your life that is actually making some sense – the one where you are not only really lost as you've been for 13 years, but you are finally for the first time fully aware of it and feeling it! Which is great! On your way to "finding yourself" now.

davidwatts (#72)

We're going to castigate a man for not wanting his girlfriend to have a moustache? I mean, guys, JD Sampson is great and everything, but this shit is a little ridiculous. Men do not like to kiss ladies with moustaches. Period, the end, from now until the radical re-ordering of society.

Pupshah (#2,112)

@davidwatts – quoting LW2: "I classify it as ULH because it's certainly not a full blown mustache—like maybe 10-15 hairs, short, barely visible by unaided sight, and then only if you seek for them desperately with a suspicious and jaundiced eye."

ie, not a mustache.

davidwatts (#72)

@Pupshah This sounds like the tortured justifications of a person who is dying to avoid saying something they really mean. Also, 10 – 15 prickly hairs is in a way even MORE GROSS than a moustache. It sounds like an elderly man's haunting remnants of leg hair. Just saggy flesh stretched between a few wispy hairs. . . yes, that's much better.

Pupshah (#2,112)

@davidwatts Well, I guess we should just be grateful. I, that I'm not dating a naked mole rat, and you, that you aren't dating an old man!

skahammer (#587)

Wow, that letter from "Older, not Wiser" really lays out an unfamiliar dilemma in very vivid terms. I don't think I've ever seen an advice-seeker describe a problem more convincingly.

An exceptional missive like that might deserve more than just further platitudes in response. Maybe an answer along the lines of, Yes, many platitudes do wind up being false when you dare to test them. Some people probably are meant to be alone. Part of the existential dilemma is trying to figure out how to be happy if you're one of those people.

HeatherH (#241,099)

@skahammer You're right. "Try to figure out how to be happy" is much better advice, and is utterly devoid of platitudes. ;) Seriously though, you (start to) make a good point. Care to elaborate? I'd love to hear more, and I'm sure LW1 would as well.

dizond94 (#243,051)

nice to be read as of now.. "Sorry for spelling it out, but I felt pretty sure you were going to fuck it up otherwise. (Yes, you can skip over that last part. That was just for you and me, baby.)" :)

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