It doesn't take much to figure out that I'm not a huge dater. Previously, I was always under the assumption that the reasoning behind this was because I never struck the fancy of anyone. I didn't date because I wasn't wanted.
What an idiot.
Recently, I went out on two separate dates with two separate guys. Date A was dinner and a movie with a personable type, outgoing and talkative. But there was no attraction on my side.
See, at first I thought there could be something there. And I realized halfway through the date that that was what had me apprehensive about the date to begin with. I was worried that I wanted to go on the date for attention, not for mutual attraction. And I was right. (And I said as much to date A. Just to be clear.)
See, at first I thought there could be something there. And I realized halfway through the date that that was what had me apprehensive about the date to begin with. I was worried that I wanted to go on the date for attention, not for mutual attraction. And I was right. (And I said as much to date A. Just to be clear.)
Date B was afternoon coffee on a rainy day. Like, I swear, ripped out of one of my daydreams. The attraction was mutual, things seemed to be great. On paper. In reality, I spent the whole time listening to a guy tell me about his love of shellfish. Oysters in particular. He really wants his own oyster farm. Really. I'm a good listener and all, but when I tried to get a word in, he suddenly remembered another interesting tidbit. Walking around in a downpour didn't sound as un-tempting as it should have.
Suffice to say neither date went particularly well. And still, I find myself not completely enthralled with the idea of dating. I suppose you could chalk it up to bad dates, but the fault lies deeper.
Going on those dates made it painfully clear that I'm a hopeless romantic. That even now, I'm looking for a soulmate. Yes, yes, bring on the opposing arguments that they don't exist and that the human condition makes the idea of monogamy preposterous. I may be an optimist but I'm also a realist. I know all there is to say. But that's faith. And that's what I have in happy endings. So sue me. Or go screw yourself.
The point is that I do believe that there are people that make life better. I've certainly had my fair share of them already. I had people to lean on in grade school, even though one of those relationships became controlling. The same goes for high school, and I don't regret any of those friendships, even though some ended. Only one really left me feeling 'left behind,' and that's only due to the fact that alcohol seemed cooler than me. Fair point, I suppose. Of the others, one friendship ended badly, and that was a big one. I've mentioned it before. There were problems on both sides: jealousy and anger on hers, misunderstanding and distrust on mine. We both were hurt, and I realize now how many of my choices were made because of how highly I held her opinion of me. Either way, we've grown up, and I've come to realize the importance of having a backbone.
I'm off topic, as per usual. Having grown up (and older) with How I Met Your Mother, I always sympathized with and was annoyed by Ted. I was the dubbed Ted by a friend in high school, and I never wanted to be Ted, until I realized I was. We share so many similarities in our personality types. There's one line in a particular episode that always spoke to me. Ted is speaking about how he's the one that everyone makes fun of for believing in finding 'the one.' He's been having a rough time romantically and he says, "Each day I believe a little bit less."
I completely understood. I was surrounded by happy couples and constantly wondering if my search was in vain. What dating has given me is hope. As crazy as that sounds coming from the person who just said she dislikes dating, it's true. Each date I go on gives me hope of actually meeting someone who won't talk about his oyster fetish or be friendly but still lacking.
Someone out there still believes in happy endings.
I've got to hope so.
I've got to hope so.
