A man in my life used to perpetually tell me he was trying to do the right thing. Typically the words were said in a moment of couple-y discord (i.e. we were fighting and trying to smooth things over). I never fully realized the true meaning of these words until well into our being not together.
TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING almost became background noise—the words were said often enough.
I have learned though, that sometimes it’s not just about trying to do the right thing. It’s about trying to do the right thing for me. I’m learning ever so slowly to be more assertive and to be a little bit selfish when it comes to the dating scene. So, when this past week I was asked out for Saturday (yay) I was genuinely excited. I gushed to my coworkers like I too often do.
L and I continued to text a little, and then, without warning, he called me Thursday night. 😐 <— the WTF emoji befitting of my face in that moment.
Tinder is casual. Way casual, and calling just felt like it shifts that casualness into something more serious quite rapidly, which I found a little off putting. I did pick up—we were just texting after all, and what are you going to do? Ignore the call and pretend the next day you fell asleep within a minute of sending your last text?! Nope. I’m too honest for that. I picked up. The call as it turns out was nice and not scary. I enjoyed his accent and more importantly getting to know him. And the call left me more exited for our upcoming date, which, obvi, is a plus.
Unfortunately, L called me again on Friday, and the call felt a little one sided what with my sitting there listening to his stories go on and on and on (want a guy to like you? Just keep him talking, he’ll walk away thinking, damn, that was a great conversation… what a great and interesting girl, I’d like to see/talk to her again OR as in this particular case, he might tell you you’re too good to be true. What are you supposed to say to that? 😐 Seriously. What do you say?). He told interesting-ish stories (he’s a pilot and as a result has had some cool ass experiences—chilling with belugas in Churchill, MB no less), though the conversation left me feeling like we were lacking chemistry. Trying to do the right thing felt like I had to honour the date we had planned (when we hung up I confirmed we were still on for Saturday because? Because who knows.). But in reality, trying to do the right thing for me, and ultimately for him, was to cancel our plans altogether. So I did. There is no sense in wasting his time nor mine, if it’s just not there.
Dating messes with my sensitive self. I’m not good at doing what’s right for me. I don’t like conflict, I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I’m a people-pleasing-son-of-a-bitch. So the turmoil and angst I felt was overwhelming to say the least. To say the most, cancelling may have been a small victory for me. And, well, the angst that leads up to the decision fueled the (blog writing) fire. F I R E.
Ah, the silver lining in the cloud of my single, but dating (?) life.