I’m not the only one who has found parallels between writing and dating. Moreover, I’m not the only who has found such parallels disquieting and disheartening. These parallels might be most apparent to people like me who struggle in both arenas. Failing in one pursuit has prepared me for coping with frustrations of the other. I guess not everyone shares my experiences, but I’m thinking at least a few readers will be able to relate.
For me, writing and dating are about exerting untold effort and getting rejected wholesale. I’m outmatched by others as a writer and as a potential mate. Readers and women can be picky, meaning they don’t have to waste their time on me. I’m not worth a casual fling for either. I can put forth my best attempt, but this simply isn’t enough to entice anyone. The few chances I get to prove my merit end up in disappointment for everyone involved. Despite my results, I press on with each endeavor, perhaps to the point of foolishness.
Further comparison would get to be a bit of a stretch. I think I’ve made my point. My failings as a writer feel familiar and almost comfortable. The synchronicity reminds me of a well-worn pair of gloves. I’m used to finding out I’m not good enough. I’m accustomed to rejection. Without an audience, I can write for my own amusement. Without a partner, I can masturbate to compensate for the loneliness. The parallels persist.