Pages

20150324

it's not me, it's you.

after knowing myself for 22 years, and knowing my current self for the last few seconds, i think i have decided something. actually, i have decided something.

i hate dating.

it feels so harsh typing it out. i hope you can picture me typing it, defiantly one key at a time. punishing each letter as i throw it down into the keyboard: i. hate. dating.

but i wonder if maybe i wouldn’t hate dating if i was dating in a more hospitable environment. an environment ready for “like-liking” someone, hand holding, and kisses saved for the second or third date. an environment where you didn’t have unlimited access to someone, where the only things you knew about them were because someone told you about them, or the person told you themselves, or because you saw it or heard it yourself.

i haven’t really been dating lately. i haven’t really dated since last spring. i think this is because i really wasn’t interested in dating. i’ll say something that sounds like maybe i want to date. something like, “i want a boyfriend,” or “i want someone to carry my groceries,” or “can someone bring my xyz from the fridge?” it’s these times that i want a boyfriend. also times when there is a movie i want to see, or a show i want to go to, or if i, for some CRAZY reason, feel the urge to embrace another human.

it’s those times that i want a boyfriend.

so i’ve been feeling a little like that lately. plus, spring is springing, the air is warming, and i want to make out with someone.

and i turned to tindr. tinder? tindre? (tindre is a joke…) i think it’s tinder, but my pride won’t allow me to check.

but i never really understood tinder because, in my experience, there is a lot of swiping left. left means, “nooooo thank u.” and i find myself saying no thank you to a lot of pictures. until, finally, i find a specimen i like. and my thought process goes a little like this:

1.     examine picture, if you can stand to look at this person for more than three seconds, proceed to step 2
2.     examine age, just because age settings are 22 to 32 doesn’t mean you’ll actually find anyone under 27 attractive. if they’re 27 or older, proceed to step 3. if they’re under 27 but exceptionally cute or have a beard, a bike, or a dog, proceed to step 3
3.     examine name, no one with the same name as any immediate family members or ex boyfriends. no brians, no tims or jims, and no stupid trendy millennial names (tristen, jayden, brendan, ect). if they have a normal name, spelled in a nontraditional way (kris, mat, jaymes) use your best judgement, proceed to step 4
4.     SWIPE THAT BOY RIGHT. you’re one step closer to meeting the future mr. hydranchula, that is… if anyone even messages you.

so i swipe about one in every 10-15 guys right. that’s a total guesstimate because i have no idea what my actual tinder stats are, but it sounds kind of correct. and after the swiping, i wait…

rarely does a conversation start, probably because i never start them. even on the internet, where you can completely block and ignore anyone you want, the fear of rejection still dictates your potential conversations, and ultimately your potential relationships.

on the even more rare occasion that a date might sprout from a series of messages, it never works out.

because even when it goes well, it never really goes well enough.

last fall, i went out with a guy that told me he once lied to a girl he went on a date with so that he could leave early. he has his friend call him and tell him their basement flooded. he needed to go home right away to help his friend. he never saw the girl again.

i asked him why he did it. why was she so terrible? what did she do? what was wrong with her?

“she acted entitled,” he said. “like she expected me to pay for her drinks.”

i would never expect someone to pay for my drinks… i make enough money to pay for my own drinks, but i think it’s nice when a guy offers to get the check. but i don’t believe that’s the only reason he wanted to leave. i asked him if that was it.

“that, and she doesn’t look like her pictures,” he said. “she was fatter.”

i could kind of understand this, but only because i was chronically nervous that i might misrepresent myself in any way. i didn’t want someone to be surprised about the way i looked in any way.

but i also hated this guy’s fucking guts.

i texted him a few days after we went out and told him i’d like to go out again. maybe something would change. i’d only been on a few second dates before, and i wanted more of them.

“as long as there aren’t any leaking pipes in your basement,” i texted him.

“haha,” he responded. and i never heard from him again.

i’ve thought about this date a lot. it wasn’t entirely wonderful, but it also didn’t totally suck. in the world of dates, it was ordinary. in fact, i think the best part of the date was me. i was personable and flirtatious. i laughed at his jokes and pretended to be interested in his tattoos. i ignored his thinning hair and the fact that he was a bit larger than he looked in his pictures.

i was great. i was on my game. but something went wrong.

this was the date that made me hate dating because it was the date that made me wonder, “what is wrong with me?”

i went on another date kind of like that one recently, only it was a little better at some things and a little worse at other things. it reminded me that, despite how badly i wish i had someone to help me carry my groceries or see a stupid movie with me, i’d rather be alone than be with someone who isn’t excited to be around me.


huzzah.

No comments:

Post a Comment