Third date.
New man.
Local to my area, so we go to our joined local pub, this is a mistake.
This man is handsome, like objectively handsome, like a Ken doll. He’s nice and interested, and within the first 20 minutes, he touches my leg; I don’t mind it. He’s paid for the beers and chips, and I haven’t eaten all day, so at this point I feel like I am living my best life.
He seems interested in everything I have to say, almost to an extreme degree: when I tell him I do yoga, he asks if I do vinyasa or hatha. I laugh in his face because it seems so insincere. He seems confused but laughs along. I am confused, and somehow we are having a great time.
He suggests another beer, and I accept as he moves in closer. We talk about experiences on the apps. I tell him about my first date, but not the second. He tells me about the women and tells me that I seem confident, and I don’t disagree with him.
I feel like we’re in a play, and I have been cast as the leading lady, the conquest. I ask myself why this feels so unnatural. Is my self-image really that low? I suppress my confusion and play along as if this has always been my reality.
The beers, the compliments and the past two dates with men who were interested in me start bubbling to my head, and I kiss him in the bar, and then I say that I have to go. He offers to walk me home, but I decline; I know that I should leave. Then we kiss goodnight, and then we kiss some more, and I don’t leave.
His bedroom has one of those wardrobes with big mirrors on it, which definitely didn’t dampen the self-confidence I had in that moment. Both of us can’t stop looking at our reflections as we get intimate; it might be a slightly weird sign.
The next day my head is scrambled, to say the least. Since my last breakup and a little before it, having sex would result in me waking up in the middle of the night feeling very anxious and almost trapped, and the same thing had happened that night.
I’m not sure if that is because I wasn’t 100% ready for what was going to happen at that point or if it is because intimacy is a sensitive subject for me and something I have tried to avoid for about a year, and maybe I just need to ignore it and get back in the saddle. Therapy would definitely be very helpful in this case; alas, who can afford that? Instead, I journal and scream into the void that is this blog.
Anyway, back to the man. He seemed to have loved every minute of the unexpected ending to the night and is very excited about the idea of it happening again. So, he invites me over basically every night, because we’ve already done it and live so close together; it seems that the idea of dates has become too much work now, but I don’t feel that way. To be honest, I don’t feel any way. I don’t really want to see him again at all, but I worry that if I say that, I would look cheaper than I already do.
And telling someone that you don’t want to see them again is the absolute worst thing I can think of. I am a people pleaser beyond compare, and I worry the minute I cut it off I will realise how good, kind, and perfect he is and how savagely I’ve cut him off.
So, my options are:
- a) See him again, have sex, and see how you feel
- b) Ghost him and hope you never run into each other.
- c) Verbally cut it off (the scariest option)
I know what to do; I just never realised that dating would be so introspective.
Two days later I cut it off with him because I am learning and healing, and having sex with someone just to appease them is not something we can continue doing, especially when your whole body is telling you “NO”.
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