Having survived the warfare of love, and convalesced in the hospice of taking care of myself, I believe I have arrived at some new insights. Not only have I been looking for love in all the wrong places; I would have done better not to look for love at all, at least not in the traditional sense. I don't need a romance—I need a bromance.
I need someone to go shopping with, to help me figure out which home improvements to make, to hang out at the bar with, and most of all to go to soccer and lacrosse matches with (heck, I'd even go to see hockey and basketball games, as a trade off). A pal, a bud, a dude to chill with. He could be gay, bi or straight—it wouldn't matter because sex would not be a factor.* As long as he is a decent, stand-up guy, and we can get along, I think it would be fun.
And fun is the key. True, I want friends in my life to help me carry the burdens of living—the horrors of the daily grind, the heartaches of loss, etc. But I strongly suspect that the persons best suited to help carry the burdens are also the ones who most adeptly help one lighten the loads by lightening up. Relationships should be fun.
So I'm going forward looking for good friends, people worthy of investing time away from myself alone. I know they are out there. I just haven't had my eyes sighted correctly.
*Years of singleness and a handful of atrocious hook-ups have taught me to be sexually self-contained.