7/29/24

Time is a strange object that we for some reason seem as though we are constantly running out of. There is a switch somewhere in one's twenties in which we all go from having all the time in the world to time suddenly becoming one of the most valuable assets at one's disposal. With that, comes a much different perspective on how one spends it, especially concerning who one chooses to spend it with. Though not everyone, most people experience three hits down somewhere between 18 and 22 from the realization that -like we always knew we would but somehow will always be surprised when we do- we're aging. It comes in the form of maturity, responsibility, emotional intelligence, and growth, and it feels as though every time we begin to feel adjusted to our new surroundings, another Earth-shaking epiphany comes to humble grow us to be the adults we were meant to be. In this time, we make friends we won't keep, work at jobs we hate, and begin relationships we never intended to, all because we're in a period of change that almost requires a certain amount of fuck-ups in order to fully appreciate the transformation at the end. However, I purposely said "most people" experience this 'phenomenon' because, for reasons of which I have yet to figure out, these realizations and epiphanies manage to skip over people from time to time. 

Watching shows like "Sex and the City" and "How I Met Your Mother" can quickly lend an assisting hand in understanding the dating pool has always been a more than tricky one to navigate. It isn't a new feat that men will ghost rather than communicate, or that tension has always existed regarding a man's height, however, what is new is the sheer amount of awareness we now have of it all. Sex and the City revolved around Carrie exposing the dating and sex scenes of NYC, and shedding a light on the trials and tribulations we endure by playing a part in it, but with Tinder and Grindr and then TikTok and Twitter to digest it all, the information is now all directly in front of us whether we want it to be or not.  We've all become painfully aware of, not only everyone but everyone's issues, their green and red flags, beige flags and icks, and while keeping an eye out for potential issues when getting into a relationship is neither a new nor bad thing, our attitude towards it certainly is. The individuality complex that social media has warranted as normal and desirable has given all of us a perspective of what the right way to go about things, treat people, and behave ourselves is. We all have the belief, whether true or not, that we know ourselves better than anyone, and while largely I would like to believe that that is based in fact for most people, we use this as a way to validify the way we treat people, especially in regards to dating. 

 Experience for those in their early twenties is all one can realistically wish to attain. Considering the sheer amount of instability that plagues 99% of those in that age group, it seems like a given that most things in our lives aren't things that will last forever. The same can be said for dating. I met a sustainability student the other day who I had been online friends with for over a year. He had asked me out weeks prior, during the time in which I was still in New York City, and the excitement I felt, not only because I did unfortunately find this man ridiculously attractive, but also because it was a person my age, in my town, with similar experiences and interests, who asked me out, and the invitation was an actual date, rather than a movie at his place to "see what happens". All this to say, the nerves, anxiety, dread, nausea, and crying that typically accompanies the dates I agree to were absent this time, replaced by the giddiness I felt to get to know someone I had been interested in, and seemingly he interested in me as well, for quite some time. By the time we said our hellos, I was already pretty sure I wouldn't be getting a second date. Not only because he was shorter than I had expected, but largely because it seemed right off the jump of introductions, that we weren't the most compatible. For someone as introverted as I unfortunately am, I did most of the talking, not because I was being overly talkative, but because he seemed to lack the confidence to contribute much. However, my feelings still stood strong. He looked just as attractive in person, his career decisions lined perfectly with some of the things I care most passionately about, and regardless of his apparent shyness, he seemed very sweet. In my head, it seemed more of a situation in which I would want a second date to see if he gets more comfortable, rather than one in which I felt I would be making the right decision if I decided not to see him again. So, I invited him up to my apartment, figuring some one-on-one time, outside of a restaurant, where we could really get into a conversation would do us good. At the time, I felt exactly where I should be for a first date. However, as our conversations continued, and an hour turned into two, it started to feel less like he was shy, and more like he just didn't really fuck with me. 

By around 9 PM, I began yawning and apologizing for yawning because I was "just so tired all of a sudden", not kicking him out but getting bedtime into his mind so he knew I was drawing the night to a close after what felt like an hour and a half of pulling teeth. While try as I might to ignore the signs of his growing annoyance towards me, and just avoid his physical advances to see if I would get a second date in which a kiss at the end was more deserved, after the third time he asked to see my tattoos, he kissed me; and I liked it. Though I noticed his lingering touches on my arm or glances at me while I was talking but not looking at him, I was trying to keep physicality out of the equation until I knew whether or not he had the same incentive for this date as I did. But I succumbed, and in that moment, all of my concerns for what he thought of me disappeared. He liked me. He asked me out, he paid for dinner, he came up to my apartment, and he kissed me, genuinely what on Earth else could all of that mean? As he left, I kissed him goodbye and told him to text me later, figuring all the anxiety I had felt lying on my bed trying to decipher what was going on in this man's head was for naught, and he simply was just a little more reserved than I was. That was the 21st, and I have yet to hear from him again. 

The one thing I fixated on for the 24 hours I allowed myself to care whether or not he was going to respond, was what possessed him to kiss me? Assumedly, I was correct. He didn't fuck with me, if he ghosted me afterward, all those little glances of annoyance and hesitated responses were exactly what I thought they were. But then why kiss me? I've racked my brain for the past week, resulting in this blog post, about what kind of motivation could he have had. Was it just a hookup but he was too nervous to make a first move? Was it just supposed to be dinner and I fucked it up by asking him up to my apartment? My resolution is that in the 4 hours we spent together, I must have hit at least one mark he found unforgivable. Whether it was something I said -it was most likely something I said considering how much I talked that evening-, or something I did, it's puzzling to me to go the entire night not having a clear sign of "I'm not seeing this person again" and still getting ghosted after. I will openly be the first to admit I'm a relatively annoying person. I can be negative, loud, and more often than not vaguely off-putting, but I can also be positive to a fault, and I try my very hardest to be kind before anything else. 

My resolution is that, like myself and many others, Mr. 5' 7" has his own list of red and green flags and icks, and something I did during that night was a clear enough indicator of one of those things that he felt ghosting was the most logical conclusion to draw. I want to emphasize, I don't even blame him. I think he's a pussy, first and foremost, but I don't think he, in his mind, had any malicious or harmful intent set toward me before or after that night. I think he, like most of us, falls victim to his individuality and forgets that while he may have not had a great night, I enjoyed mine. Neither here nor there, I think this date was an indicator of a much larger issue than a gay boy being ghosted. In our years of sharing unpopular opinions, icks and turn-ons, and personal beige flags (still don't really know what that means) we've all become significantly far too aware of everything. We know how vast the world is, and for now, we know how much time we have to do what we want to do. However, I find myself in a position of mentally feeling much older than I am, to the point that I'm about ready to settle down. I don't enjoy the temporary feelings of early adulthood and frequently will find myself skipping out on people or events if they don't seem like things I will continue to desire within the next few years. As I try my best not to waste my own time, at the age of 21 years old, I'm to a point where I'm asking others not to waste mine.