So here’s the sitch, I recently went out on a date with a gentleman that I met at a mixer a few weeks ago. Well actually, we didn’t formally meet at said mixer – we respectively took notice of each other while at the venue. Apparently I’d caught his eye – so much so that he took it upon himself to send me a Facebook request a few days later (and I accepted).
He liked a few of my photos, I liked a few of his. He commented on a few of mine and I did the same. Eventually he kicked things up a notch and started to engage me in conversation via Facebook messenger. The exchange was enjoyable, as it wasn’t too pushy or frequent; just enough to keep me engaged.
Yet again, the stakes were raised. We exchanged phone numbers (at his request) and had our first telephone conversation soon after. He didn’t disappoint, the conversation was lengthy (a little more than two hours), intellectual, humor-filled, and effortless. We spoke again the following evening and I found the conversation to be just as gratifying.
This verbal exchange ultimately led to our first date, which turned out to be a really good one. We enjoyed each other’s company over a late lunch and cocktails at a Prospect Heights eatery. We shared jokes, discussed our travels (trips already taken and ones that we hoped to take), family, interests, and passions – you know typical first date shit. The afternoon ended with a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek in front of my brownstone. We parted ways and I felt a strong sense of satisfaction. I looked forward to a second date, but that never happened.
Something went very wrong and I can’t for the life of me figure it out.
As you know the day after a first date is one of angst. You spend a bit of time wondering what the other person is thinking. Were they as into me as I was them? Will this develop into a relationship of substance? Will we go out again? I asked myself these questions and then some because I had nothing but time on my side.
12:00 pm, nothing. 3:00 pm, nothing. 9:00 pm, nothing. I was officially confused, I just didn’t get it. I did what any girl would do, called my girlfriends for insight. The consensus was “intimidation”. They collectively thought that he was simply intimidated by me and my free-spirited nature, but I didn’t buy it. The energy on the date wasn’t indicative of an intimidated man. My date struck me as a highly confident, secure and interested man.
Low and behold, I did receive a call when I was out. His name flashed across my Samsung Galaxy at 9:57 pm and I smirked. “My God the dead has arisen”, I thought to myself. I didn’t answer my phone, not because I didn’t want to speak to him, but because I was insulted. What the hell was he doing all day? Instead of answering I sent him a text message letting him know that I was unavailable at the moment and that I’d phone him back when I was free.
True to my word, I phoned him a little after 11:30 pm. We spoke for all of 4 minutes as he was out and about in a loud environment.
The following afternoon we had another conversation, a very brief one. He sounded distant and uninterested so I took a hint and rushed the conversation so I wasn’t subjected to his unengaging energy any longer. I realized that would probably the last time we’d speak and I was right. That was Friday.
Here I am today – confused, with a slew of unanswered questions. Didn’t we both enjoy a great afternoon out? Did we not enjoy stimulating conversation via phone and in person? Am I bugging or was there a mutual physical attraction?
I could go on and on, but it will be in vain. I will never know what that man is thinking because I have no intention of asking him. You win some, you lose some – and I have been on a helluva losing streak these past few weeks. I’m optimistic that things will turn around though; someone will understand my awesomeness sooner or later.
Until that time I’m on the same wavelength as illustrator, Todd Harris Goldman, “Boys are stupid, we should throw rocks at them.”
Until next time friends!