Oh, how I missed dating. No, really, there’s no sarcasm in that statement. None. Not even a little…okay fine, I’m full of it.
The highs, the lows, the giddiness, the anxiety, the anticipation, the disappointment…I’m already enough of an emotional basket case without throwing me into such a volatile world.
Add dating into the mix and I’m mood swing city over here.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. I thoroughly enjoy the attention, the getting to know you stage, the flirting and the thrill of the unknown. There’s even a small part of me that can appreciate the expected moments of anxiety, you know the “will he call” and “what did he mean when he said that” moments.
Hashing it all out with your girlfriends, figuring out the guy code, trying to decide if he is or isn’t just that into you.
It’s all part of the game, and taken lightly, can be fun.
But, it is a game. And unfortunately, most games end with someone winning, and someone losing.
Which brings us to “The Boy”. The 25 year old boy yours truly had a date with this weekend. Remember him? Of course, how could we forget.
So adorable was he, so into me, that when the opportunity arose for an impromptu coffee date on Friday afternoon, he cancelled plans to go to the gym to meet up with me instead.
So we had coffee. We had a lovely time and sat and chatted for a little over an hour. Easy conversation, flirtation, even plans for future dates were discussed. Our plans for Sunday were confirmed, and we parted ways promising to chat via text later that evening, while I was out with friends, and he was working.
On paper, it all went well. In fact, I tell you that if you had been sitting in that coffee shop watching us interact, you would have thought “cute couple, they’re into each other”.
And yet, yours truly walked away from that coffee date with a feeling that “the Boy” was just not that into her. Don’t ask me what did it, I couldn’t tell you. He said all the right things, the body language was positive, there were no outward signs. Call it women’s intuition however…I just knew.
I’ll spare you the details, because they are boring and unnecessary, but before Friday night was over, it had become obvious I was being blown off. He still didn’t say much, but the tone between us changed completely. Gone was the flirtatious air in his messages and texts, and instead we entered the territory of curt, basic communication.
By Saturday, however, he seemed to have abandoned all interest in pretense. The communication stopped all together. I never heard from him again. AT ALL.
Yes, I was officially blown off. He didn’t just flake, he flaked in a major way. The “so into you”, no game playing, straight shooter I’d been getting to know…was a phony.
Now, before you start to feel sorry for me, let me assure you that you do not need to. Obviously, upon meeting me for coffee, something changed. Likely he realized that I did not look how he’d remembered me to look. Quite possibly, I didn’t measure up to his fantasy induced memory. I’m okay with that. I know I’m not a supermodel, and not every man’s fantasy. I can handle that.
Yes, the ego takes a hit, but, to be honest, I think I look pretty damn good at this point in my life, and if he wasn’t attracted, well, so be it.
But it was the complete switch, from the portrayal of the “good guy” who was so into me, straight forward and mature for his age, into a silly little coward of a boy who couldn’t even send a text message with a lame made up excuse cancelling our date, that shocked me.
No, I take that back, shock is too strong a word. Disappointed me.
I would at the very least, have expected a proper blow off. The disappearing act? Weak.
And yet, this morning I’m smiling. I spent my weekend packing for my cruise. I tried on my short little dresses and my cute little booty shorts, and I realized that he’s a fool. I may not be a supermodel, but I have the whole package. I am strong, independent, intelligent, loyal, fun, caring, kind hearted, and damn it if I don’t have a hot little body for a 34 year old after all my hard work this last year.
Truth is, all this? Way too much for a little boy to handle. I should have known better. I need to be talking to grown men. Besides, as my friend “The Disciple” pointed out to me “He was too short anyway, at this point, you need to think genetics girl, you want a tall man”.
But, no regrets. I said it then, and I’ll say it again, from this point forward, I go all in emotionally. Life is too short to “play it safe” and hold back. I want to experience things, and feel them, and enjoy them without focusing too much on the what if’s. As quickly as I can jump in, I can jump out. Bounce back, move on.
I might as well enjoy it while I’m in it.
If I’m going to do this dating thing, I might as well give it my all. Don't you think?