I've tried writing this post three times before I stopped deleting what I had written. I was going to try to be erudite, write something that would resonate with someone on this subject. Grab the reader and keep their interest into the meat of the post, the part I truly want to write. But I couldn't find the right words.
Dating sucks. It just does. If you think about it, most of the dates we go on end in failure. Failure to spawn a relationship. Failure to ignite the flame of desire. Failure to forge a lasting connection between two people. I've gone on plenty of dates with guys whose names I can't remember now. Even some of their faces are blurry in my minds eye.
But what's worse is when the opposite happens. When it starts great. When you have a connection with someone. When you realize that there could be potential. When the person you're dating sees past your insecurities and makes you feel valued and heard. And yet still it doesn't work out.
Now saying dating sucks is cliche and to be honest not actually one hundred percent true. There is something to be said for the mystery of what could be coming. Could this actually work out? Could they be the one? Could he be the first guy I introduce to my family? Could he be the one I finally call my boyfriend? That excitement can be intoxicating. But is that intoxication worth the disappointment that eventually comes when it ends?
The most recent guy I dated was exciting. He was kind. He was smart. He was clever. He was entertaining. I use the past tense here not because he is no longer with us, but because he is no longer with me. We had gone on about four dates before I realized that I was chasing something that clearly wasn't there. He was never rude to me, he never spoke to me in a condescending way, he never was unkind to me even. But he didn't look at me with any kind of affection for someone beyond that which two friends share.
We did genuinely enjoy one another. And I will remember him fondly. On our last conversation I said that I was sure we would talk again soon, knowing full well that we wouldn't. But his response was surprisingly genuine when he said we would. I do believe he believes we will.
I don't mind the fact that he and I aren't together. If I'm being honest, it was clear to me that we weren't the match I had hoped we'd be. There were red flags popping up here and there. And I knew I could see them this time. I was happy to date him to see if things would progress, but when it became obvious they weren't I had accepted that fact.
The reason it hurts was not because I won't have this guy in my life any more. It's because I won't have anyone special in my life. I look around at all of my friends. I look at all of my family members. They all have that person that lifts them up. That they can call their own. And here I am, one failure after another, alone. It is the crushing disappointment that makes it hard. And it is that disappointment that reinforces my insecurities.
Was I not smart enough for him? Was I not attractive enough for him? Was I not fit enough for him? Was I not witty enough, rich enough, ambitious enough? But at the end of the day, the answers to those questions don't matter. My reality is that I'm alone. I know that I'm alone for now, but for now is all I have. It's all any of us have.
I am proud of myself though. Even though I could tell his feelings for me were waining, he was not going to bring them up. After all, I was giving him what he wanted; affection. But I had enough self respect to know it was unfulfilling. I could have not said anything and just given more to him that he would ever give to me. But I didn't want to do that. So I asked the question. I asked him if he wanted to end this. I did that. And that is a big step.
