From Tinder to Exclusiveness, In One Fowl Swoop

It’s a weird time in my life, readers. So get this: last week I went on a date with this guy from Tinder. I had my speculations, mostly because I found him on Tinder, of all places…but I decided to go ahead and go on a date with him. After all, he had a motorcycle.

So he comes to my house, and I lock my front door, heart pounding and muttering “What the fuck was I thinking?” to myself. I get in the car, he introduces himself. We shake hands. And then he starts talking….and talking…and I blissfully realize that it won’t matter that I’m shy, because this guy is super nice and an open book. And we go to his place, and get on his bike….and I fell in love. In love with the incredible rush of being on a bike. And hey, the guy wasn’t bad either. He was cracking jokes and I was already feeling really comfortable. Fifteen to twenty minutes into the date, I already wanted to kiss him. Blah, blah, blah…we go on a romantic motorcycle ride through the countryside during sunset. I’m not even kidding—that’s seriously what happened. And then we go back to his place and order pizza. He shows me all the stuff in his office because he’s a computer wiz with a few 3D printers. Smart, adventurous, funny, with killer abs and great eyes? I was impressed. This guy already had a 6-figure salary and was only in his twenties. He loved animals and was outgoing, but considerate enough to ask me about myself. I felt the worries about my fucked up love life disappear….and then we started smoking. Now, I’m an occasional smoker. Like once every six months is where I stand. So I figured, why not? Bad decision. The more I smoked, the less I spoke and the more thoughts became jumbled in my head. I listened to this guy and became paranoid that everything he said was rehearsed. It was all a lie. He was just trying to fuck me. So the rest of the night I was stuck between suspicion and admiration. Every time he asked me a question I messed up my answer, and everything he said became more twisted as I contemplated it. But, on the upside, the pizza tasted delicious.

Where did the date end? Around 1:30 in the morning, after we both scrambled to find our clothes after maybe ten minutes of Netflix. He took me back to my house, and I wondered if we’d see each other again. He said he wanted a second date, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except wanting to go to sleep. So that was it. I kissed him goodbye, shut the front door, and fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.

He’s texted me some. I told myself he wouldn’t put in the effort of texting me three times if he was just looking for a fuck buddy. However, I was still unsure if I trusted him. Was the paranoia justified? Or was it the leftover hurt from Fred that made me want to keep him at an arm’s length? I couldn’t decide.

So a few days later I had a date with Isaac. (I’m playing the field, okay?) There we are, having a great time, and this feeling starts bubbling up. It was there the last couple of times I hung out with him, but now it was stronger. It was the feeling of attachment, of wanting to share my feelings and let him in. But I was so freaking scared. “You…you make it so hard for me to keep you at a distance.” I finally admitted in a small, scared voice. We were just laying around in his room, cuddling. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked. I sighed, “Yes and no…I…I haven’t really shared my feelings with you because it’s hard…I’m scared.” I hate these kinds of conversations, but Isaac made me feel safe enough to choke the words out. We lied there for a moment. I tried not to think about how badly it hurt when I found out Fred cheated, or how badly it hurt now to know that his cheating was hindering my relationship with others. “I don’t know what to say,” Isaac admitted. “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” He sighed and paused for a moment. “I…I’ve been thinking about something for a while now…No, never mind.” I turned toward him, interested, “No, what is it?” “I….was wondering if maybe you wouldn’t mind not seeing other people.”

And just like that, we were back to the what-are-we? conversation. Time to go balls-out truth mode. I told him I really liked him, that I wouldn’t mind being with him, but that I was afraid that the expectations that came with “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” would change things between us, and that I didn’t want anything to change. Pause (me resenting my honesty). He finally agreed, and said he wasn’t ready for those labels either. “So, we’re not dating, but we’re not seeing other people?” I asked. “I guess so.” I let that sink in, “That’s kind of screwed up sounding.” He thought about it and laughed, “Yeah…” “We’ll figure it out,” I told him with a smile, and wrapped my arms around him. Believe it or not, I had thrown out the possibilities of dating the motorcycle guy, some girl I was talking to on Tinder, and getting back together with my ex-girlfriend in less than a minute. And surprisingly, it was an easy decision.

I don’t know what the future holds for Isaac and I, but I’m excited to find out. I like that we are both taking our time to figure out what we want from the other person, and not rushing into anything. I’ve had enough time playing the field for now, because deep down I really do like to focus on just one person at a time. And right now that person is Isaac. I’ve forgotten what it’s like not to have a complicated arrangement with the person I’m crushing on, whether it was an open-relationship, an ex-relationship, or an unattainable relationship. Finally, I’m able to enjoy goofy romantic feelings and not have them weigh my heart down in confusion. I know who I want, and now we both can have time to figure out what we want from each other, together.

And that’s better than anyone I could find off of Tinder. 😉


About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 09/30/2015, in All That "Love" Crap and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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