This post is about a very recent dating experience that I had. It was one that I was very much looking forward to and that I felt was going quite well. As you’ll see from the below, I clearly misjudged this. I have changed my dates name, just out of courtesy. Not that he afforded the same to me.
Back in July, I was just home from 3 weeks travelling in Rajasthan, India. I’d had a fantastic time, met some wonderful people, seen some extraordinary things and eaten some excellent food. But now I was home and it was back to reality. As you do when you’re bored these days, I opened Tinder and started swiping through, mostly uninterested because let’s be fair, it’s quite hard to be attracted to someone that you don’t know.
Things changed and I got a little excited when I saw Sam pop up. I had met Sam a couple of times before and I knew that I fancied him, so I swiped right. It was not an instant match. Disappointing. A few days had passed, and I figured that he had swiped the other way and was not interested in me until I eventually forgot about his existence altogether.
I chatted to one guy I matched with and met up for a hook up and that was that. And that was all I was looking for from this guy too. No drama. Great. And so, it was back to idly swiping.
One morning a couple of weeks ago I woke up and had a few notifications on my phone, one from Tinder. Imagine my excitement when I opened this up to see that Sam had matched me! I now wonder, looking back, if the time at which he matched me, around midnight, should have been a red flag. I waited a few hours to send the first message, obviously I didn’t want to seem overly keen by texting him at 8am.
I sent the first message and we got chatting. He wasn’t quick to reply but hey, not everyone spends every minute of their day glued to their phones. It also made it quite nice to not have to constantly keep up with a text conversation and keep it flowing. We spoke lightly about similar interests and he even asked about my trip to India which I had mentioned when I last saw him before I left. He then suggested we talk about my trip over a drink. Yas. First date in the bag!
We arranged to meet at a local bar less than a week after we had initially made contact. I was incredibly nervous about the date as I really liked him. He was extremely early to the bar; I hadn’t even left yet when I got the message saying he’d arrived!
Once I arrived, I helped him choose a beer and we got sat down and started chatting. We spoke solidly for about 4 hours, with only interruptions for toilet breaks and to collect more beer. We were getting on really well, we both made each other laugh, his job was interesting, he was handsome as hell.
Too soon came time to head home. He offered to walk me home and I accepted his offer. Of course, this led to us making out outside of my front door for quite some time. Before he headed home, he made sure to get my number to arrange to meet again.
The next day I had a bit of a sore head, but I was feeling good after a nice, wholesome date, with a guy that I really liked. I knew that he was working so I messaged him first to see how he was getting on. He had a great time too, and he quickly suggested a second date.
After arranging date number two, we didn’t continually text each other, as has been my experience. Whilst this felt a little disconcerting for me, I figured that Sam just wasn’t really one for long winded texting. I could get on board with that. I did start to worry however, when by the morning of our second date I still hadn’t heard from him. I also had an interview that morning, of which he knew, so I expected that I would at least receive a good luck text. I was getting ready to cancel the date if I heard nothing. Dramatic? Maybe, but I liked this guy and I would hope that he’d been listening to me if he liked me too.
Right before the interview start time, I got the ‘good luck’ that I was hoping for. Excellent. Things were back on!
Later that evening we met up and headed down to the arcade to play some mini golf and mess around on the arcade machines. As on the first date, we were having a good laugh and we headed back up to a pub in town. Over a couple of drinks, we chatted about everything from work, to families and to what baby hippos are called. (Calves, in case you are now wondering).
As we headed home, he never explicitly offered to walk me back this time, but he did continue to walk my way. Once we got to the end of my street, this was the obvious place to break away without dragging him in the opposite direction of where he lives. As we were saying goodbye, we started making out again and so I then suggested he come back to mine. Right now, this feels like the worst idea I’ve ever had, but hey, I’m sure I’ll come up with some worse ones in the future.
So, Sam came back to mine, we had another drink and chatted some more before we started making out quite heavily. Soon we were both half naked and we decided to move things to the bedroom where we had some awkward, not very good, sex.
Let me get this straight here, I am not blaming Sam for the sex being bad. I was nervous as fuck. At this point I haven’t had sex with someone that I really like in a long time. Hook ups are easy when you’re not really caring where it’s going to go from there, and the last time I really liked someone that ended in tears. So yeah, it was awkward, and I felt a bit stupid to say the least.
Another potential idiot move I made was to let him know he didn’t have to feel like he had to stay if he didn’t want to. Now I wanted him to stay, and I said that, but potentially by even saying it in the first place he might have began to think I’d rather he didn’t. Yep, that was me trying to be the “cool” girl. Sake.
In the morning we had some more awkward sex before we just lay for a bit chatting shit. It was nice.
And then he left. And I’ve heard barely anything from him since. I sent him a silly meme relevant to him hoping to lighten the mood, but I never got much back from it. He’s not asked about the job I interviewed for. (I got it!). And I now straight up think I’m being ghosted.
It sucks. It sucks because this is a boy that I really liked. It sucks because it felt like we were getting on so well. It sucks because I have an overactive imagination and I was already thinking about where we might end up living. (He has dual citizenship of two EU countries, he was definitely my way out of this Brexit shit-show).
And it sucks because I guess being ghosted always does. You don’t get to find out what went wrong. Although rejection always hurts, it’s better to just rip the plaster off than to let the wound fester underneath. I would even have liked to have remained friends with Sam even if there was no romantic connection. He made me laugh and we had a lot in common. But that looks unlikely now.