At the beginning of December I had one more date to go. I'd already started reflecting on my year. I was thinking about what I'd learned, and how I might approach dating in the future. I was also feeling a little bit cynical. A lot of things in my life are better than they were last year (more on that soon!). But I'd fatigued a bit on first dates and figured I'd just find somebody in town for thirteen and get it over with. Then I started exchanging messages with a new guy that I liked. Liked enough to follow on Instagram. Which is how he found this blog. Eek, right? But then this happened: Positively charming. We met on a Sunday. He lived pretty far away, but still came to my town. He was intellectual, enthusiastic, and game for the unusual. He wasn't interested me despite my 13 first dates quest; he wanted to meet me because of it. He felt inspired to get back out there himself, and wanted to talk to a so-called expert. He was pretty clear that he wasn't looking to jump into anything long-term, but he still said nice things to me. He was self-conscious, but sweet. Plus, I LIKED him, which was unexpected and pleasant. He was cute! I definitely wanted to make out with him, and he seemed to like me, too. I said I'd visit him before flying to see my family for the holidays, and a couple weeks later I did. We took a walk to look at Christmas lights, then went to dinner. He was smart. We were still talking quite a bit about dating and dating philosophies, comparing experiences. I was turning up the charm, hoping to engage in a little harmless flirtation. Quick sidebar -- THINGS I CONSIDER HARMLESS FLIRTATION
It seems that last one isn't so harmless to number thirteen. At one point I mentioned that his letters and mine were a "match." Same inside letters, opposite outside letters. I know I can be kind of a freak sometimes, but I was keeping the conversation pretty light. Teasing. He got weird on me, fast. I guess talking about "matches" felt like a big commitment for him? Because then he said this: "I mean, after tonight, I don't even know that we'll see each other again." Ouch. To be fair, he'd said he wasn't looking for anything long-term. It's not like he was deceiving me or anything. It's just that I'm generally pretty perceptive and I really thought he was picking up what I was putting down. I was willing to put forth effort to continue getting to know him and I thought he might be, too. I guess not. We passed the rest of the date in affable conversation, but I didn't want to make out with him anymore. And just in case the first time was too subtle, he made his feelings clear when I left. "Maybe I'll see you. You know, if I'm ever passing through, or if you're passing through..." Just ouch. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't spent part of my drive to the airport running through the reasons why: Maybe I came on too strong? Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe I'm too fat, or not smart enough, or just too far away. Maybe he wouldn't even be able to articulate it if I'd asked him. Sometimes... And it doesn't matter why. This year I've built up a lot of confidence and learned to like myself in the context of dating. Here is what I believe about me: I am a rare and beautiful sapphire. I'm not going to try to sell myself to someone who's in the market for pearls, and I'm not going to let it get to me when I am occasionally rejected. At least, not for more time than it takes to get to the airport. I will say this -- it was a little dehumanizing. Because he was so interested in my blog and dating theories, he made me feel like an experiment. I see the irony there. Thirteen, if you're reading this (and I must assume you are), here's the last piece of dating advice I'll offer, especially if you pursue a goal similar to mine from this year: remember that the women you go out with are people. I say this to you, but I mostly say it to remind myself. Since getting dropped by the doctor in August I've stopped seeing the men I dated as real and complete people. Like eleven. No, I did not have a great time. But odds are, he's just a guy moving through the world as best he can, trying to find the right partner. I want to be the kind of person who can find something good in other people...even if I'm feeling exasperated or bored or annoyed. When I started this blog, I made one rule: don't write anything you wouldn't want the men you date to read. I'll be honest, I never thought that would literally happen. In some ways, the fact that it did helps me hold myself to that high standard -- not just because thirteen might read this, but because I finally feel re-inspired to try to be the very best version of myself. So I'm going to go back and read what I wrote. I'm going to wish thirteen well and hope that he finds whatever it is he's looking for. And then I'm going to do a little Tinder-ing before I turn off the light and sleep.
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JaneHi, I'm Jane. I go on dates. Archives
December 2018
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