I’m 56, divorcee since nine years: with modest means, an ASD, depression, some somatic issues. A fixer-upper! I usually don’t get a first date to fumble. But there’s more! I am hopelessly in love with my friend (F(59)). She doesn’t reciprocate, so that isn’t going anywhere. But here’s the kicker. If I should find myself in the situation where I am talking and getting along with some lovely girl my age, somewhere from the bottom of my black soul rises the urge to describe and discuss my infatuation. My heart doesn’t want to let go of my crush, and having that crush blocks potential relationships. I yearn for a lovemate, but the reality is that won’t happen. On a positive note, I might be up for vaccination soon.

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