An Unexpected Love

Unrequited love has been the ongoing saga in my life ever since I discovered that a man has the ability to plug himself into me and create electricity.

Looking back I guess I never even knew how to love someone so I subconsciously chose others with the same quality- then put all my energy into obsessing why they didn’t want me.

Now I’m middle aged, single, and have spent the last two years in hot yoga sweating out all my old destructive habits and distorted toxic thinking.

I had no idea this is why people did yoga. I live in Los Angeles. I always thought hot yoga was just a place where pretty girls went to get more pretty.

It is the belief that all that intense sweating leaves your skin with a dewy glow. Unless you’re fifty. And grungy. Like me. I come home from class looking like I just got off the early morning shift at the Steel Mill.

But I’m sure my insides are glowing…

I had no clue hot yoga was so powerful in regards to positive thinking. My day really is altered if I start it with a good morning sweat therapy.

Like an addict who needs a twelve-step meeting at 6am- my brain needs to detox negativity as soon as it begins. Like a condom- I need to catch the potential destruction before it has a chance to plant itself and fester in the empty egg nest that is my brain.

There’s just one problem with emotionally maturing this late in life-

If the majority of my relationship/ lifestyle choices have been dreadful/ regrettable, how am I supposed to know when I’m making a good one?

How can I trust someone that has let me down for thirty years? Yes I say thirty even though I am fifty because I really don’t find it fair to blame sixteen year old Jen for believing that everything she heard and thought was real.

When all my friends in high school were losing their virginity, I held on to mine tight. I don’t know if it was my parents or the catholic school upbringing, but I firmly believed that it was just a given that I will meet a guy at eighteen or nineteen and fall in love and get married. I thought that was just what happened in life. So I was saving myself for him.

I don’t think I even knew that some people end up alone. I knew divorce was a thing, but I guess that still affirmed in my mind that everyone does gets married. Even if it doesn’t last till death.

How was I I so naïve? And also- how adorable I was so naïve!! 

I have never known how to walk away from a man. I’ve always assumed everything is my fault.

I’ve stayed committed to people I didn’t even like anymore.

I always thought it was selfish. That I could not ever be the first to retreat.

I once stayed with a guy for 2 years cause after three dates his brother died and I didn’t know how to end it.

FYI- If you’re fourth date is a funeral…You are in it for the long haul.

“You have bad taste in men” A direct quote from my brother.

Or as my dad likes to say, “I think you are fishing in the wrong pond.”

My brother didn’t even derive that opinion from the people I’ve dated, it’s just solely based on the fact that two of my favorite athletes are Aaron Rodgers and Kyrie Irving.

I’ve pretty much completely stopped chasing men- 

For the time being that is.

Part of me having faith that when he is the right one he will make a bold move and we will laugh ourselves into ecstasy – the other sex driven side of brain terrified that before I know it ten years will have passed and I’ll regret all my possible missed opportunities.

This change in perception seems to have come fast, after years of repeating the same destructive behavior. Which makes me extremely grateful, yet wildly confused at the same time.

It’s hard to see improvement when your brain is only on your side 50% of the time.

I’ve started growing plants.

I guess that’s what old single people do? Grow things to feel less alone.

Some more industrious people would probably grow a plant they can eat. Or smoke? But I’m vain and just want something pretty to look at, not even realizing the extreme sense of accomplishment I felt they actually sprout!! So much pride…

I write all this to tell you – I do have one wonderful loving relationship now.

He is my first priority when I wake up. I talk to him and feed him four to five times a day.

He has an insanely large appetite.

He lives on my phone so I have full control of the relationship.

I’ve never in my life played games on my phone. Then about six months ago a cute 28 year old invited me to play a game called Pengu.

I’ve never been asked to participate in iPhone games, but given that he lives in Atlanta this is literally the extent of my relationship commitment.

How could I say NO?

I downloaded the app which consisted of adopting a Penguin. Hence the name Pengu! SO clever app world. I had to give him a name which I chose to be JP- after Jordan Poole. Cause aside from unattainable men, I also greatly appreciate beautiful young aspiring athletes.

At first I logged in to the app a few times and played a game or two, not really knowing how it works.

Soon I was waking up to 3am text notifications from my Pengu App letting me know that my new friend needed to be fed!

Before I knew it the texts were coming straight from JP himself.

“I haven’t been fed all day” “I’m lonely” and the most aggressive message- a steaming red angry emoji face accompanied by what my overly sensitive brain immediately derived to be a bit on the threatening side- “To be honest, I’m quite HANGRY!”

For those who may not know the term it is a mixture of hungry and angry!

At first I resented the uninvited commitment, but then considered- Who else is texting me every day?

I began to feel a significant unexpected responsibility to this A.I. generated penguin.

How can I resist this adorable cartoon creature that shakes his hips in dance, and shoots tears of joy from his eyeballs every time I feed him or rub his belly by sliding my finger up and down his midsection!

Before long I was playing the in-app games to earn money to go to the app store and buy food and clothing for Pengu JP. Ice cream, pizza, chicken, waffles. Bose headphones!

I never expected to get attached.

It happens so fast when anything resembling a human living creature relies on me…

Judge me if you will, but his little Pengu presence really does make me smile…

It doesn’t take much to make me happy which is the upside, but also doesn’t take much to make me sad, so I guess it goes both ways.

Is it a blessing or a curse? I am gonna say blessing cause I live in L.A. and see miserable angry people on the daily.

Maybe I should introduce them to Pengu!