Welcome, friends. Can you believe that there are less than six dates to go in the experiment, and less than a month (26 days to be exact, irony is not lost) to go until until I turn 26? (23rd July, mark it in your diary, pals, I want a card or the very least your best compliment) I better get a jog on with publishing these date posts – you would think a schedule of once a week would be more than do-able… except I HATE a schedule. Too much pressure. However, I absolutely promise that you will get six date posts before my Big 26. PINKY PROMISE.
But before we dive into the last leg of this experiment, I want to tell you tales of the dates that could have been. Well, at least initially I did. I wanted to include three stories of near-misses, however one in particular was so long, that when editing down, I realised that it really needed it’s own post. So here it is, quite possibly one of the craziest things that’s happened to me in these last few months, and we didn’t even go on a proper date…
Things with Q amped up after our first date. We were texting a lot before, but were doing even more so now that we knew each other a little better. He made me laugh and things felt easy with him, like I didn’t have to put up any false pretenses. I do try to be myself as much as possible when dating – it’s the only way to be when getting to know someone – but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t hold back certain quirks in order to make a good impression (hey now, not that quirks are bad, but you’ve got slowly roll out the crazy).
After our date, J went on holiday for a week, so naturally I didn’t hear much from her. I got on with my life as she went gallivanting around the mountains in Switzerland. In fact, it sounds kinda bad, but I actually forgot about her a bit until she texted me when she got back, but it was a pleasant surprise seeing her name pop up on my screen.
It’s the age old dilemma – you sleep with someone after the first date and then you don’t hear from them again. A problem that I’m not exactly unfamiliar with, but hadn’t encountered in a while. And let me tell you, it doesn’t feel great the first, second or any other subsequent times.
Does anyone remember this onimus tweet I posted a while back? Well, hold onto your butts and let’s rewind, shall we.
I matched with H after he liked one of my pictures that was essentially a family portrait I took of myself and the cats when we first got them as tiny kittens. I looked through his profile where he had a picture of himself with daisies laced through his beard and I commented back: “Daisy beard is a strong look!”
He replied that my ‘smile game’ was strong, which is the first compliment of it’s kind that I had ever heard. I noticed early on that his way of messaging was… irritating. Lots of short messages one after another, and too many ellipses where they weren’t necessary. But, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and gave him my number when he asked for it.
I could tell from his profile that he was a comedian – one of his profile pictures was, after all, of him against a brick wall with a microphone in hand. If that wasn’t telling enough, there was another photo where he was wearing a sign that said ‘don’t feed the comedian’. I asked him about it.
“Only at nighttime,” he said, “during the day I’m in meetings that take up most of my Tuesday.”