Wait, wait, don't date me

I don't know if I'm a realist.

Avoidant.

Wise about my limits.

Burned too often when I thought I was way brighter.

Or just really, really tired.

But I find myself trying to convince men -- often -- that there are many good reasons why they shouldn't go out with me.

Distance is a big one.

Kids at home another.

I've been having a spirited conversation with a man online about the fact (true, that) that I wouldn't spend a lot of time at his house because his (older) children are living there. I am not sure he understands my scruples. I'm not sure I understand why he had to find this out before we met.

Religion.

Politics.

My complete and total lack of fetishes.

It  doesn't matter -- I'll find a reason to push someone away.

It may be that I want to see if they are strong enough to resist -- or at least to raise some questions.

I am aware that I have been hurt by callous behavior often enough that I make the bar for getting to know me very high.

Once a man, woman or kid gets past that, I am very forgiving and patient -- perhaps too patient. You are so kind, a man said to me (and about me) once -- as if  the word "kindness" was an epithet.

Now that I am engaged in a learning experience that is so demanding I am both keyed up and tired almost all of the time,  I am more willing to send the dragons into the moat than I was before. So, of course there are more men interested in getting to know me.

Even though, you know, I am such a poor risk, an unusual choice, a quirk they will regret, their soon to be favorite mistake.

It's the way of the world.  Be slightly unavailable, and the world wants you.

I find myself saying "noli me tangere" more often -- and waiting to see who runs, and who decides to walk towards me, instead.