(Ra)2 + (ah)3 + (Roma)2(ma) + (ga)2 + ooh + (la)2 I used to write about bad romance, now I just write about the state of my heart.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
well, that was short. Deleted dating profile.
So, I deleted my online dating profile Sunday.
I'd gone on date #2 with the guy I'd met just a couple days earlier. He was warm and nice and easy enough to talk to, and so even though the date seemed too soon, I thought fuckit. Whatevs, just go and have fun.
We had a nice time. I felt more awkward than I expected but granted, he was still a complete stranger and comfort levels take time to grow. I did feel a little like I was auditioning for a part in a screenplay. He wanted to know all about me. Did I like to cook? What are my flaws? (Quick, tell all so I can see if they're dealbreakers!) What did I do in my spare time? I answered each question and he warmly smiled and said "Aaand?" like he wanted more.
Over dessert, he looked at me, puzzled. "Hmm. You look different in different types of light."
I nodded my head with resignation. Yeah, different flaws are accented from different angles, blahblah. I know this.
"I want this one!" he kidded, pointing at me and exclaiming that the lighting overhead was particularly nice, better than the bookstore.
This is the female brain: "He noticed the hideousness!! Well, there goes any daytime activity."
Still, the date was good enough. He's a genuinely nice guy. I had a sense of appreciation for being able to meet a stranger and, for an evening, enjoy eachother's company. These experiences, though brief, do feel enriching in some way. Letting someone into your life, even temporarily, is a gift in itself and I appreciated his company for the evening. Something inside me was shifting towards friend-zone though; maybe it was that he was pushing too hard for a level of familiarity we didn't have.
But I sympathized; I know what it's like when you want something bad enough that you hope to mold people to fit the shape of the hole that exists inside. Having heard his story and his honest admission in realizing he'd been looking for a replacement for his wife, I could see the remnants of these desires at his edges. I could also tell he would make a wonderful companion for someone. I didn't know if it would be me just then -- was still operating on my multiple-date-before-judging rule -- but he seemed like a genuinely good guy.
The end of the date was awkward. He asked if he could kiss me on the cheek and I suddenly felt uneasy. I said yes -- I mean, so what? -- but it was an uncomfortable moment. I was suddenly more acutely aware that he wanted to move quickly forward. I'm aware that I sound prudish but whatever, I can't change those feelings.
All week, he's been sending nice messages and texts, asking me to call and text and email back. I've been polite and formal but cordial. It takes time to click, right?
Saturday I went out with friends and we shared dating sagas along with additional stories of unrequited love (proven to be mitigated quite nicely by steak on a stake and funnel cake, I might add). It was a lovely, relaxing afternoon; a wonderful break from the flurry of fast-paced dating activity.
The next day, I met up with a friend of a friend for what was to be a study session and suddenly something else inside shifted. I didn't want to do this anymore, this meeting of new strangers and working at conversation. Comparing actual easy conversation with what I originally thought was easy? Wow, what a difference. I'd rather just be alone then and hang with friends.
And so I deleted my profile.
I told myself I would carry through the two future dates I had planned so as not to back out, and also that I would see each guy again (there were three) again. If nothing else but friendships developed, yay! Enriched life. But no more new people. It felt right.
next: date #3.
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